Indignitaries
by rangerbagel
Summary: Chancellor Lellee Sull and Senator Dell Lem of Partia come aboard an Enterprise overdue for shore leave. What results is friendship, gossip, drinking, a lot of sex, and an unexpected threat. What will the very attractive crew of the Enterprise do with these important interlopers from "The Party Planet?" The M rating should give you a clue.
1. Chapter 1

The Enterprise had become accustomed to the flow of dignitaries and important political guests in and out of her hull. She was accustomed to dress uniforms and formal addresses. She was accustomed to every change, but often the crew was not. No matter how many ambassadors, leaders, experts, and noteworthy celebrity sightings took place aboard the flagship, the people aboard couldn't help but buzz with each new arrival.

There had been an exchange of officers one time. A Klingon had come aboard, bringing his stark and brutal command style. That had been an interesting load of ship's gossip. As was the gossip surrounding Troi's miracle baby, and that surrounding Keiko and Chief O'Brien's wedding day shenanigans. The Enterprise was, still, accustomed even to the chatter and gawking.

* * *

_Captain's Log, Stardate 44709.2: Recent events and stresses have led Starfleet to call the Enterprise to Earth for repairs and much-needed shore leave for the crew. However, given our proximity to Partia, a planet home to many of great esteem, we have been instructed to give safe passage to their Chancellor, Lellee Sull, and a Senator, Dell Lem. Partians are well known to have an almost unending life span and slowed aging process, allowing them to be living historical records, an important vocation to say the least. The Chancellor herself is approximately seven hundred years old and one of the most involved diplomats and public servants in the Federation. Due to the sociability of Partians, Counselor Troi has suggested we hold a reception party, but treat their passage as an informal... visit... of sorts, transporting as guests to Earth rather than formal dignitaries._

* * *

The Captain, his First Officer, and Counselor Troi walked toward the transporter room.

"Try not to be anxious about meeting the Chancellor, Captain. You have nothing to fear." Troi moved closer upon noticing Captain Picard adjust his dress uniform gruffly.

"I shall try my best, Counselor," he mumbled.

"I'm rather excited, sir!" Riker almost skipped. "She's seen everything. She was among the first alien visitors to Earth following first contact. I mean, she was one oft he first of her people to join Starfleet!"

"I am very aware of her extensive... experiences, Number One." The Captain paused and dropped the tone of his voice. "Frankly, that's what makes me nervous. Did you know she has been aboard the Enterprise more than once before?" He stopped walking. The Counselor and Commander Riker turned.

Riker stepped forward, "Oh really?"

Picard began to walk again. "She received passage to Vulcan aboard the Enterprise during the Five Year Mission, under Kirk himself."

"Yes, two famous libertines aboard one ship! Though she has seen more than one Enterprise," Troi continued with a smirk. "She also briefly caught passage to Khitomer, acting as a Federation Ambassador following peace talks with the Klingons."

"I didn't know that!" Riker exclaimed. He thought briefly of Worf, wondering what he would think of her presence on his home before the slaughter.

"I find the more I learn the more unsure I feel." Picard turned as the doors of the transporter room opened.

"I think you struggle with the idea of Partian personalities more than anything, Captain." Troi stepped closer to him. "She will certainly not find you inadequate. You know that. She will lavish praise on you, on all of us. But she will also respect you as a Captain, and personally as a modest and controlled man. You needn't fear being embarrassed."

"This isn't Mrs. Troi after all," Riker giggled and Troi scoffed playfully. The Captain relaxed some.

There was more troubling the mind of the Captain that day. Though Counselor Troi recognized the depths, she did not engage them lest they be brought to the surface. Picard nodded to Transporter Chief O'Brien who stiffened formally at the sight of the dress uniforms.

"Remind me of how to behave myself, Counselor."

"You needn't worry too much about strict formalities," Troi said, kindly, "Partians are extremely hard to offend. In fact, it's probably their biggest weakness. It took a long time for Klingons and other more stern species to accept them, see them as something other than frivolous. But Partians are strong and honorable. Those qualities as well as their practically unlimited life spans make them excellent ambassadors, diplomats, and public servants."

"It seems strange for anyone to consider such a well-accomplished race frivolous." The Captain furrowed his brow as the Chief announced the Chancellor would be beaming up within a few minutes.

"It's not terribly strange. To human culture they seem boisterous, social, extremely enthusiastic, and motivated. Such qualities are often associated with children. One way in which humans in particular and other new members of the Federation have come to respect them is through their long-term ties to the Vulcans."

"A logical planet, they say, Partia." Riker leaned in close to Troi.

"A _reasonable_ planet, they say, Commander," Troi corrected. "They value reason and courtesy above all else. This has allowed them to maintain their emotions and enthusiasm under the pressure of responsibility and ambition."

"So how do I speak to her, Counselor?" Picard asked frankly.

"Just be happy to see her," Troi replied. "Enjoy yourself. Allow her to dote on you somewhat. Partians have a social hierarchy based on achievement. In many other cultures that would give dignitaries and the elite a sense of distance, accepting subservience offered by others. Partians conversely serve because they love to serve. Thus, those who have achieved the most have earned the privilege of serving the most. A great example I find quite wonderful is that professional organizers are practically celebrities and highly respected; and these are people who clean homes for a living." She smiled. "Partians also find it most reasonable to make situations as positive and efficient as possible."

Troi paused as she saw the Captain obsessing over these things. "Captain, she will recognize how humans may be uneasy around someone so old and accomplished. She will want everyone to relax. She will want everyone to feel happy, content, and part of a community. Also, Partians don't believe in false manners. If she offers you a gift, a drink, or a kind word; accept it. Do not deflect her compliments. It will hurt her feelings. It would be the only true offense."

"Point taken, Counselor." The Captain stood ready as the Chief signaled the arrival of the Chancellor.

The pad flickered to life and the column of light brought forth two individuals. One was a tall, broad shouldered man. His face was playful and handsome, messy black hair falling over gray eyes.

The other figure was clad in a flowing white linen frock. She was small, comparative in height and proportion to Troi. Her skin was pale, but her eyes and hair were nearly black. Her face was angular and pretty, youthful with only subtle smile lines. Riker thought briefly of her pictures scattered throughout the history of Starfleet and the Federation. He hadn't thought of her as beautiful, but here in person she was different, less simple. She beamed upon seeing them all, and that warmth simply made her seem more striking than in her pictures. Here, in the flesh, he found her so much more attractive.

"Chancellor Sull, I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Welcome aboard the Enterprise." The Captain uncharacteristically stepped aboard the pad and offered her his arm. Troi smiled, pleased at the Captain's relaxation and ability to embrace Partian style.

"I am so thrilled to meet you, Captain. I have barely been able to sleep for the excitement of meeting you. It makes being back aboard the Enterprise so much more special." The Chancellor slid a long slender hand around the Captain's bicep and stepped off the pad.

"May I present my First Office, William Riker." He gestured to the commander.

"It is a true pleasure, Chancellor." Riker bent as he took her other hand gently. She wrapped her thumb around his and he blushed.

"I've followed your career as well, Commander," Sull said, "I hope you won't mind telling me first-hand some of your favorite stories." She sighed as if her heart swelled.

"I'd be happy to," he said, smiling. "Hopefully you'll honor me with some of your adventures as well." Riker turned toward Troi and the Chancellor left the Captain's arm.

"Counselor Troi!" Sull exclaimed. She took the lovely Betazoid's hand in the Partian style. "May I call you Deanna?" The Counselor nodded. "I've just had a communique from your mother." Troi turned red. "No! Nothing embarrassing!" Sull laughed, waving away the thought. "She said I would have a wonderful time aboard the Enterprise with you here. Indeed, it's so. You are, as far as I know, a born diplomat."

"Thank you, Chancellor; that's immensely gratifying to hear you say." Troi let her eyes flicker to the handsome companion who'd already introduced himself to the Captain and Commander.

"This is Dell Lem," Sull said. "He's a relatively new Senator and my friend." The Chancellor extended a hand to him after he'd introduced himself to the men and he approached both women, towering over them with great care so as to not intimidate this new charming acquaintance.

"I've heard much of you, Counselor." He took her palm, wrapping his thumb around hers in the affectionate Partian style, "I hope to earn your friendship, and the friendship of the fine Commander and Captain of this prestigious vessel." He pulled his hand slightly to his chest. This time Troi sighed. She had not seen his pictures before and even if she had, she couldn't have imagined his considerable physical charm.

Riker flushed a little at the sight. But the moment was interrupted as the Chancellor returned to the Captain and took his arm with both hands. He swallowed hard for a moment and said, "We have very fine quarters reserved for both of you. We have adjusted the temperature controls to better reflect your preferred colder climate."

"That is very considerate of you, Captain." He led the Chancellor through the transporter room doors. "I am so excited I can barely contain myself," she breathed.

As they walked through the corridor the Senator dropped back slightly and indicated to Troi that he wished to speak with her discretely.

"What is it, Senator?" Troi asked, sensing that he was uneasy.

"Please, call me Dell," he said, lifting his hands up. "There is no cause for alarm, but I believe I have an injury to my third hip that needs treatment. I did not wish the Chancellor to hear as she would have been concerned that I did not see to it before we arrived on the Enterprise. I am afraid I must impose on your sickbay."

Troi smiled, giggled even. "I understand. I would be happy to escort you there, and I believe Dr. Crusher, the Chief Medical Officer, would be very excited to meet you." She turned to nod at Riker who seemed concerned they were leaving. But he relaxed as Troi's remarkable body language indicated that their separation was innocent.

"You think she would? Well, I didn't realize I'd be meeting Dr. Crusher. That is amazing." He placed a hand on his hip and Troi realized he'd been hiding a limp and more than a little discomfort. "My father is a medical doctor," he chirped. "As I was preparing for this trip he was absolutely envious that I would be aboard the same vessel as Dr. Beverly Crusher. I find that humans are sometimes put off by being admired. I don't know why that is. Do you think she will find my attention bothersome?"

"I promise she will be happy to meet you. Though, it is unfortunate that your meeting is under these unpleasant circumstances. You would've met her anyway as she will be attending the reception tonight in Ten Forward." Troi took his arm to make him feel more at home. He smiled and immediately relaxed, biting his lower lip to stifle giggles that Troi had already sensed.

Elsewhere, the Chancellor seemed to float into her quarters, leaving behind the Captain's arm to briefly take in the spacious accommodations. "This is truly wonderful. You have been so gracious to the Senator and me." She turned suddenly. "Am I keeping you from your duties?"

The Captain raised his brow and stole a glance at his First Officer. "No," he said, "not presently, Chancellor. We would be happy to leave you, however, should you like to settle in."

"I think that would be of some benefit to you as those dress uniforms are frightfully uncomfortable. Or at least they were back in my day." She stepped closer to the two officers. "Have they gotten any more bearable?"

"No, they haven't, I'm sorry to say." The Captain smiled, showing frankness that Riker had never seen him display to such a prestigious guest.

A melodious laugh followed. "Oh, goodness," she said, clapping her hands together. "Starfleet should make their tailors try on every uniform before approval."

"That seems like a good idea," Riker chimed in. "I think I will vacate mine so that I may send it to the seamsters on Earth."

"Very good, Commander." She patted his arm gently as he turned to leave.

"Yes, I agree," the Captain began. "I hope these quarters serve your needs. Please enjoy all the amenities of the ship. We are all happy to have you aboard."

"I hope we will have the chance to talk more at the reception and somewhat further in the coming days," Sull said. "I feel very fortunate to have the opportunity to get to know you."

"And I you, Chancellor. Good evening." With that he turned and fled the room. He tried to shake off his stage fright as he retreated down the corridor.

"You seem _displeased_, Captain," Riker commented as they both entered the turbolift.

"I am fine, Commander," Picard replied curtly.

"Forgive me, sir. I was only concerned." He folded his hands in front of him and looked up, trying not to smirk.

After a pregnant pause the Captain looked over, "No, Commander, I'm sorry. Once again the Counselor is right. The Chancellor... gushes... and I have never truly been able to bear such attention."

"I think she's very sweet, sir." Riker smiled.

"Of course," he said. "She is. She's a very pleasant woman."

"But... "

"Bu_t_..." He punctuated with an over-pronounced T. "She is a Chancellor, an ambassador, a living ethnographic treasure. I expected that. She's seven hundred years old for goodness' sake. Her status is inherent and I expected her to be an authority."

"But she's not acting like one," Riker interjected.

"No, Number One, she is not."

"Is that such a problem?"

"No it isn't," he spat.

"_But_... " Riker leaned his head forward and smirked at having to drag this conversation out of the Captain.

"But!" Picard found himself smirking as well. "It would be easier if she weren't quite so lovely."

Riker left the turbolift with a burst of laughter. He attempted to straighten himself, but found it unnecessary as he saw immediately, shockingly, the Captain was actually chuckling.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dr. Crusher?" Troi called out following the hiss of the doors.

"Yes? Troi?" Crusher left her office, her thick red locks swaying slightly against her shoulders.

"I have a special patient for you," Troi sang out.

"I'm coming!" Crusher grabbed a tricorder and adjusted her jacket. She thought about asking Troi about meeting the Chancellor and Senator from Partia. She'd heard epic stories of the Chancellor and endless accolades for the Senator as well. She was very curious about them and looked forward to the evening's reception.

Crusher was then quite startled at the sight of a tall, firm man lounging irreverently on a bio bed. "Oh..." she exclaimed, searching Troi's face for an explanation.

"Beverly, this is Senator Dell Lem. He has a bit of an injury and wanted to get it taken care of before this evening." Dell straightened on the bed and winced just slightly.

"Oh..." she said softly. Crusher held her breath as his cool gray eyes seemed to scan her like a probe. He glanced away, his cheeks reddening, and brushed some of his tousled black hair from his face. It was short, but playfully messy. It made him seem so young, clashing with his strong, mature jawline, and his actual advanced age.

He looked into her face again and reached for her hand. "It's wonderful to meet you, Doctor." As he had with Troi, he wrapped his thumb around hers with delicate purpose.

"It is..., " Crusher replied, "I was looking forward to meeting you tonight... Senator..." She looked down and gently took her hand from his in order to take control of the tricorder.

"Please call me Dell," he said smoothly. "Thank you for your help, Doctor. Please know I would have rather we'd met in a less professional setting." He smiled, completely unaware of his innuendo.

With a blink, "Call me Beverly then. And tell me what's the matter."

"I believe it's my third hip." He placed a hand over his left side. Crusher ran the device over him and it sprang to life.

"Partian anatomy is really fascinating," she mused.

"We're a boney species." Lem bit his lower lip briefly.

"Yes..." Crusher said quietly. "And you're right. You've got a hairline fracture of the third hip. How did that happen?"

"Football?" Lem said. "A human Admiral visited the Chancellor with her family before going ice climbing. Her son and daughter taught me football. It was brutal."

The two women laughed. Crusher flushed at the image of the Senator's athleticism. "It's nothing too serious." She snapped back to reality and said, "But you really are coping with the pain well." She offered him her most flirtatious smile and picked up the hypospray.

"Well, complaining about pain takes up a lot of time, Doc––Beverly." He flushed again.

"I thought that was something of which Partians had a surplus," she said. The hiss of analgesic delivery was followed with beeps indicating bone fusion.

"It's very true. But we do not have a surplus of opportunity. Opportunity is precious. If you waste time, you miss opportunity." He took a deep breath as the pain subsided in his hip and said, "I feel much better already."

"I'm glad to hear it... Dell. This should heal up just fine. You're in excellent health." She patted him on the shoulder and immediately felt embarrassed.

"I find that to be both good and bad news." Lem leaned back onto his hand.

"Why's that?" Crusher asked, putting down her instruments.

"It's always pleasant to hear one is healthy. But if I were sick then I'd have more opportunity to see you." He flashed her a bright white smile. She almost exploded.

Crusher could barely look at him after such a statement. She managed, "What a charming thing to say, Senator." Was he toying with her? Did he mean it? They'd only known each other a few minutes and yet she felt almost giddy.

"Dell."

She sighed, "Dell."

Troi, who had been absolutely silent throughout this entertaining play stepped back to give them further opportunity.

"You know, I am an admirer of yours, Beverly." He chuckled and looked away, amused at his position. "And I find it very gratifying that I am allowed to call you by your first name."

"I think I may not live up to your admiration." She smirked and looked down. Troi had a brief moment of concern. She shot her attention to Lem's emotions. He was not hurt. Troi was relieved. Then she was amused. Because he was amused.

"I highly doubt it," Dell said, his cheeks reddening a little. "My father is a medical doctor also. He's been on Delos IV recently, working, and he has told me of his own admiration for you. Having previously given attention to your service record, I share in his sentiment." Lem stood up from the bio bed, revealing his full height and the broadness of his shoulders. His dark suit was of a thin knit fabric, structured along the shoulders and collar, but seemingly soft and breathable as it did not stifle him.

Crusher gazed up at him cautiously. She could feel his elevated body heat. Partia is a bitter-cold planet. Dell Lem's temperature would register 42 degrees Celsius on a thermometer, but was off the charts on Dr. Crusher's sense of him.

"I appreciate that," she stammered. "I am an admirer of yours as well."

"Allow me to converse with you more at the reception?" he asked. She nodded and he smiled, taking her hand and thumb again. His hot palm made her legs feel like jelly. "You shall have to help me be social." His eyebrows lifted. "I suspect I could spend the whole evening listening only to you."

Crusher laughed shyly as Lem turned away. She huffed and almost hissed at Troi, who was smirking knowingly at her. Then the Counselor and Senator left sickbay. The Doctor floated into her office before demanding that the replicator give her cold water.

* * *

Later that evening, Ten Forward was gentle in mood but anticipating the fun to follow. It was not common that it saw all of the senior bridge crew at one time for one event among so many others from every part of the ship. A lovely buffet had been arranged along the lavish windows: _food illuminated by the stars_. Data had made that observation.

"That's really quite poetic, Data." Troi smiled.

"Thank you, Counselor." The Commander's head tilted. "I am endeavoring to better understand poetry. I hope to attempt my own compositions soon."

"I think you're absorbing it quite well." Troi picked up a drink from the bar as she saw Dr. Crusher glide into the room. "Well that's a wonderful development, " Troi giggled. Data gawked at the Doctor, puzzled at the Counselor's riddle.

"What's developing?" Riker came up behind her and saw the object of her attention. "Oh, I see."

Crusher began to walk toward the trio. She'd pinned her hair back in a delicate, loose bun. Her makeup was minimal, but her blue eyes seemed to glitter more than the sapphires that dangled from her ears. Instead of her medical coat she sported a long-sleeved, knee-length, tastefully-fitted dress of intricately-crocheted blue wool.

"Your legs look amazing," Troi whispered into Crusher's ear. Data overheard and glanced down at her fair, firm calves. Riker chuckled and Data looked away.

"Thank you," the Doctor said. "I just thought the Chancellor and Senator would appreciate me getting... into the spirit of their ways."

"And their clothes, it seems." Troi smirked and sipped her drink.

"Their clothes?" Riker grinned and took in Crusher's dress.

"I believe, Commander," Data began, "that the Doctor's dress is woven from the under-wool of the ellt, a Partian ruminant livestock."

"Yes, Data." The Doctor shuffled behind the Lieutenant Commander and Counselor to get a drink. The chatter had died down some and she knew the Partians would be arriving soon.

"Did I tell you what the Captain said of the Chancellor?" Riker leaned in to Troi, looking straight ahead and sipping his drink.

"No... What?"

Riker hesitated until he was sure Troi could barely contain herself. "Well. It was very uncharacteristic of him..."

"Will, what?" Troi took his arm.

"He said that he would have an easier time dealing with the Chancellor's... personality... if she were less... " he glanced down at her face, "_lovely_."

Troi gasped and cupped her mouth. "He really said that?" she asked. "The Captain?"

"He absolutely did." Riker sat his drink on a coaster. "I nearly fell down laughing I was so shocked."

"That's very interesting." Troi chewed on the olive that had rested in the bottom of her glass.

Soon the chatter elevated and people ate. With a hiss of the doors the Captain and Worf joined the party. The crowd parted somewhat out of reverence. Troi was mildly disappointed that they had not chosen more appropriate attire, but she hadn't really held out much hope anyway. They obviously looked good in uniform.

"Counselor, should I have changed?" Worf slid up next to her, noticing her soft pink dress with the flowing skirt and Crusher's striking new look.

"I think you look fine, Worf." She patted him on the arm as Guinan handed him a prune juice.

"Thank you, Guinan." Worf lifted the glass to his lips.

"I think she's going to be excited to meet you," Guinan said, turning to leave.

"What do you mean?" Worf asked her before drinking. She only smiled and walked off with her tray.

"I believe that it would not have been appropriate for the Captain to dress down for an event featuring a Chancellor and Senator of Partia," the Captain hissed at Riker even though he'd said nothing. Just the sight of Riker's smooth gray slacks and well-sculpted dress shirt made Picard uneasy.

"You always look great, Captain." Riker smiled gently and handed him a glass of sparkling wine. And then the doors opened! There was a hush, almost a gasp before subtle clapping.

"Careful! We might sing if you applaud!" The Chancellor waved a hand in the air. An Ensign to her right who had been standing at the bar suddenly fled, dashing in her path. She dodged him gracefully but could not fight the physics of momentum and bumped hard right into the back of poor Lieutenant Barclay.

With the utmost precision his glass of ale spewed over him, soaking into his uniform, none falling on the ground. The crowd hushed. La Forge stepped forward and almost threw up from embarrassment. Barclay wanted to climb into a hole and die. He felt like his internal organs were shutting themselves off, committing ritual suicide one by one to avoid the anguish of turning around and gazing into the face of a Federation legend with ale soaking into his underwear.

"Oh no. Oh no!" The Chancellor covered her face for a moment before desperately waving at a bar back and saying, "Please, sir, some towels! Oh my goodness!"

Barclay summoned his courage and looked at her face. Her dark eyes glistened and he stopped breathing as she bore a sad and loving look into him. It was a feeling he'd remember all his life.

"Lieutenant, oh Lieutenant," she breathed. "I am so sorry! I can't believe my clumsiness. I was just so excited to see everyone!" She took the towel and his hands. He felt the warmth of her palms as she delicately wiped the ale from his fingers and wrists.

"Reg, what happened?" La Forge jumped between the Chancellor and Senator, taking Barclay by the shoulder.

"I–– I––Commander––Sorry––I don't!––" He was trembling. Suddenly the Chancellor put a hand on his bicep. He froze. La Forge froze. Lem smiled gently and slid his arm around the Commander's shoulder.

"It was a silly accident," Lem said smoothly. "The Chancellor will take care of the Lieutenant. I'm Dell Lem; who are you?" They turned in to face Ten Forward, the Senator adeptly intercepting the approaching Captain to Barclay's incredible relief.

"I'm––I'm sorry," Barclay said, recoiling slightly as she leaned in closer to place the towel over the remaining ale on the bar.

She smiled. "Please don't apologize for my––and that Ensign's––blunder, Lieutenant. I hope you aren't too upset." She took his thumb and stared up into his face, seeming to hope for a glimpse of forgiveness in his eyes.

"I'm not upset... Chancellor. I––" He pulled his hand away awkwardly and tugged at his soaked uniform.

"You will have to change," she interrupted. "Please tell me you will return." She nodded the confirmation for herself.

Barclay gasped, "If you wish, I will. I will." She smiled and took his arm, leading him out. As he left he turned to look back. She waved. He almost tripped over his feet.

"Geordi, I think the Chancellor will want to have a long talk with you," Lem said as he walked between the Captain and La Forge. "You know she was an Engineer."

La Forge smiled. "I certainly do. Actually..." he dropped his voice and leaned in toward Lem, "that Lieutenant? He's a member of my staff." He cocked his head to the side, searching for an indication of whether or not he should keep Barclay far away from the Chancellor.

"Oh that's funny!" Lem laughed. "The Chancellor will..." he trailed off catching a glimpse of Crusher hiding behind Commander Riker, "find that… amusing."

The three men stopped before Troi and Riker in their fine attire. "Beverly?" Lem peaked around Riker's shoulder, who suavely stepped out of the way, leaving Crusher naked to the Senator's gaze.

"Good evening, Dell." She covered her mouth slightly with her glass of wine. "It's nice to see you again."

The Chancellor had joined the group, speaking briefly to Worf before appearing to Geordi's right. "Commander La Forge?" She was so quiet in her approach he nearly jumped in the air. Lem and the Captain didn't even know she was there for their gaze on Crusher.

"Yes," La Forge choked. "I'm sorry about that, Chancellor."

"Lellee."

La Forge froze, "Lellee… I'm sorry about Barclay."

"What Barclay?"

"I beg your pardon?" He lifted his eyebrows.

"Does he have a first name?" Sull asked as she slid her hand under his bicep.

"Yes!" he exclaimed over-enthusiastically. "Reginald. We call him Reg."

"Very good." The Chancellor turned to feast on Lem and Crusher chatting about the most boring things to avoid showing their giddiness.

"Dr. Crusher?" Sull broke away from La Forge.

"Yes?" Beverly turned and Lem coughed.

"I'm sorry," Lem said, turning. "Chancellor Sull, this is Dr. Beverly Crusher." He slipped his warm hand under Crusher's palm to gesture her forward. Sull took her thumb.

"Lovely to meet you Chancellor," the Doctor said. Crusher was unsure as to whether or not she should shake hands amidst the Partian grip.

"Lem and his father talked about you quite a bit before we set aboard the Enterprise," Sull replied. She let go of the Doctor's hand. Crusher turned to look at Lem, expecting to see his blush, but he didn't. He seemed to beam.

"Beverly, would you indulge me?" He reached for her hand.

Her head swayed with a zap of confusion and she asked, "Indulge you?"

"With a dance." He waved his fingers at the air, revealing that no one had noticed a gentle jazz quartet had set up in the corner.

Crusher blushed furiously and shook her head looking around. She whispered, "I'm not sure, Dell."

He stepped forward and whispered, "I know you can dance." Her eyes widened and she looked away, but he took her hand and she was forced by her own need to look back. "It's a big secret, I know," he said. "I would've kept it more closely, but then I saw how you look in ellt wool."

Crusher smiled and acquiesced to his movement toward the band. She was too charmed to notice Riker and Troi had overheard the whole exchange. The Chancellor had managed to capture the Captain's attention away from Lem's efforts, but both the Betazoid and the Commander heard Crusher sigh giddily.


	3. Chapter 3

The reception waned and people sauntered back to their quarters one by one. It was almost a contest for last humanoid standing. The prize was bragging rights.

"Would you let me come down to Engineering and see the engines in the next few days?" The Chancellor stepped in closer to La Forge, who stepped back in response.

"Of course," he said. "I know my team would love to have you there." He sipped at his drink. He'd lost count of how many he'd had at this point.

"Please let me know when would be most convenient. I know you're docking for repairs soon and I'm sure you'll be busy." She clinked her glass against his.

"Of course, Chancellor." The two drank without much further conversation. La Forge wanted to ask her so much more, but he was unsure of how to approach it. He thought perhaps touring her along the engines would give him the right chance to ask her some questions about the earliest starships.

As he pondered this the Chancellor turned like a whirlwind toward the bar. Her frock was long with a short belted robe. Though the white silky fabric was so light it almost floated, the Chancellor seemed overwhelmed.

"What is it Lellee?" Troi asked, unsure of the source of the Chancellor's discomfort. She stepped forward and asked the barback for water.

"I'm fine, Deanna," she said with a sigh. "Thank you. I've just hit my maximum temperature. Forgive me." She untied the belt and slipped the robe off her shoulders. Riker and La Forge stopped talking for a brief moment and leered at the Chancellor's suddenly exposed back, the high-necked gown plunging to almost her tail bone. The two Commanders attempted to pretend they hadn't reacted, but the Captain struggled to suppress even noticing. He'd glanced, however, noticed. He'd seen how her muscles curved gracefully and humanly, and a sculpted line ran conspicuously down her back, revealing the forty-four intricately carved vertebrae of her spine. The Captain imagined walking his fingers along the crevices, feeling the smooth bone under soft skin. When the images solidified in his imagination he snapped to attention and forced himself to listen to Lem and Crusher discuss skin tissue or something boring to that effect.

Sull leaned over the bar and turned her head to La Forge, who'd stepped closer to her side so as to keep from looking at her back. "Geordi?" She rested her head on her hand.

"What can I do for you, Chancellor?" He sat his drink down.

She rolled her eyes. "You know, it gets so tiring being called Chancellor all the time."

La Forge laughed. "Yeah, I think I would feel the same way… Lellee."

She grinned and turned to lean back on her elbows. "What should I have to drink?"

"I, uh..." The Commander gazed at his own empty glass. "To tell you the truth, I've been debating having another myself."

"Why debating?"

"Well," La Forge began, "since you teased us into switching off of synthehol I'm feeling, I guess, tipsy." He chuckled.

"That is most excellent." Sull threw her head back, indicating that she was also buzzing with subtle intoxication.

"You've got more of a tolerance than I have, for sure, Chanc––" He grinned, cutting himself off. The two giggled.

"I'm a lot older than you, Geordi." She slid closer. "Thanks to replicators my resistance to libation is no longer expensive." She brushed her hand against his shoulder, "You didn't answer my question."

"On what to drink?" He stood, feeling the flush of the drink and her warmth near him. "Well, let me think."

"How about... Bloodwine?" Worf suddenly joined them.

"That's a big commitment, Worf," La Forge exclaimed.

"It is a great idea though, Lieutenant." The Chancellor turned and asked the bartender for three Klingon Bloodwines.

"I heard that you enjoy Klingon drink." Worf stood confidently. Riker found himself watching, very curious as to what these two would talk about given their very few degrees of separation.

"I don't think I can drink this, Worf." La Forge gulped, looking at the warm terror of a liquid.

"It is not an easy drink. It is not for the weak. But I believe you are up to the challenge, Commander." Worf held his glass out, offering a small toast to La Forge in silence as his and the Chancellor's met his chalice.

"Thanks, Worf... I think." La Forge sipped and felt a rush of pain from the burn in his throat. He choked briefly, but tried to remain still.

The Chancellor drank earnestly. Worf watched her over the top of his glass. They caught each others' gaze briefly as they drank. They decided to finish in unison. With incredible valor they drank the warrior's drink without blinking.

La Forge exhaled in wonder. "Now that's impressive. I hope I can do that when I get old." He turned to Lem and asked, "Dell, can you drink Klingon Bloodwine?" He held out the glass to him.

"Oh glob, no!" The Senator warded off the drink. "I can't handle it. Lellee has on more than one occasion rendered me useless with that stuff. I am in awe of Klingon liquor." He dipped his head and smiled at Worf, who heaved with satisfaction.

"Thank you, Senator," Worf said in a rich, deep tone. Then he added, "Perhaps you could try a Klingon Martini. I hear they are a way for many non-Klingons to enjoy the flavor of Bloodwine."

"That's an excellent idea, Lieutenant!" Lem replied. Then he stepped up to the bar. "Beverly?" He turned to her and asked, "Do you want one?"

She opened her mouth, but found she had no answer. She glanced at Troi and Riker, who each cocked an eyebrow. The Captain seemed disapproving. So she nodded. "Yes, that sounds very interesting!" She stepped forward as the doors opened noticeably.

"Is that Lieutenant Barclay?" the Chancellor asked of La Forge.

He shuffled slightly to look across Ten Forward. "Yes!" he said. Then he half shouted, "Hey Reg!"

Lieutenant Barclay sauntered in, wearing a fresh uniform, and was horrified that more than half of the guests were gone. He had remained in his quarters mulling over how to handle the situation. First he showered and then he spent too much time deciding if he should wear a uniform or casual clothes. The obsessing had stolen most of the night from him.

When he saw his commanding officer approach him, intoxicated, holding a chalice of Klingon Bloodwine, he was completely startled. He had not prepared for a real social event. He was reminded of the parties all over San Francisco to which he was never invited. All of the drunken cadets who would go on to be brilliant officers were alien to him. And now, the Chief Engineer of the Enterprise was beaming as he seemed to float over to him on a breeze of liquor vapor.

"Reg, you made it back!" La Forge slapped him on the back. "Come join us. The Chancellor was an Engineer with Starfleet, you know?"

"Yes––yes. I know, sir." Barclay scrunched his shoulders as he gazed on the Chancellor in her soft slowing dress. She was flushed from drink and her lips pouted as she watched him approach. When she turned to order an ale from the bar his stomach flipped at the sight of her exposed back. La Forge practically carried him.

"Lieutenant Barclay," the Chancellor said as she slid her hand up his forearm, "what took you so long?"

He stammered, but didn't answer. He merely shrugged and tried not to look at her neck.

"Well, at least you're here now," she said. "Your Commander was telling me about your encounter with the Cytherians and I am very curious about some of your work in Engineering." She handed him the ale and said, "I hope this one does not end up on that excellent uniform."

He took it from her. "Thank you Chancellor. You're... kind."

"I'm glad you think so. Please call me Lellee."

His eyes rounded in horror, "Lel––Lellee." He looked down. "I'm Reg... though..." He bit his lip. "People have called me Broccoli." This revelation was a horrible surprise to himself.

Sull giggled and twisted her brow with amused confusion. "Broccoli? Like the vegetable?"

"Yes––but..." He looked down, embarrassed again. La Forge was amused, however. He couldn't believe that Reg would even _mention_ it, let alone make something so pathetic seem almost charming.

"That's pretty funny, but not very nice," Sull exclaimed after a snort. "I'll call you Reg unless you want to be a vegetable." She tapped her glass against his ale. He drank thoroughly.

"That's just fine; thank you Chancellor."

"Lellee."

"Yes. Yes. It's... very nice to meet you, _Lellee_." He forced a smile.

"I just love being aboard the Enterprise," she chirped romantically. "Geordi told me I could visit Engineering sometime on this trip. I'll have to make sure I'm there when you're on duty. I read of the incident regarding invidium contamination after you took on Milulak tissue samples and I'd like to hear your side of it."

Barclay nearly spit out his ale, recalling how his holo-addiction had been discovered during that time. "You have? You would?" He wiped at his upper lip.

"Yes, that was a very fascinating incident," she said. "When I have spare time I like to keep up on Starship engineering reports. Your Commander has been indulging me with some first-hand accounts." She sat down her glass of water and looked at Troi, shifting the conversation abruptly. "This little vacation is just what I needed."

"Vacation?" Barclay repeated, puzzled.

"Yes," she replied. "Dell and I are going to Earth for some general meetings, but we're also taking a little break in Jamaica. I haven't had a vacation in a Terran decade and I need rum and reefer." Geordi snorted and Troi laughed. With a smile, Sull said, "We don't have warm beaches on Partia and Dell has never been to one."

"Really?" Barclay turned to look at the Senator, who was brushing a loose curl from the Doctor's neck. She blushed. Barclay did too.

"I haven't actually been to Earth before, Lieutenant." He looked back at Crusher.

"Really?" she echoed Barclay.

He chuckled. "Everyone is so surprised, but it's true."

"I think I know why." The Chancellor gazed at him saucily.

"Why, Lellee?" He walked up to her and sat two empty glasses down on the bar.

"It's because they think you're old, like me. An old man." The Partians laughed.

"How old are you?" Crusher asked, the spirits eliminating a few of her inhibitions.

"Well, I'm just a kid," Lem confessed. "The Chancellor is, what? 700 Terran years old?"

"That's about right, son." Sull giggled with La Forge.

"Well, then that'd make me only about 230? Something like that?" He took the two Martinis from the bartender and winked at crusher. "I'm a pup yet."

"But an excellent Senator." Sull raised her empty water glass to him. The remaining group cheered gently in agreement.

As the party waned further everyone seemed to give up on the contest for last-crewman standing. The Captain departed from Riker's side after his second glass of non-synthehol. Real wine was a rare treat, but he was getting a headache.

"You're leaving, Captain." The Chancellor stepped away from La Forge and Barclay.

"Yes, Chancellor, I am." He began walking to the door. She took his bicep and walked with him.

"Thank you so much for this wonderful reception," she gushed. "Dell and I have really enjoyed spending time with you. The Enterprise D is a remarkable ship. You are an admirable Captain." She patted his wrist. He smirked.

"I appreciate that, Chancellor," he said, trying not to blush. "I have also enjoyed your company." He paused and furrowed his brow. He stared into the black matter of her eyes and made a firm decision. "If you have a free moment," he said, "I'd like to chat with you more. I'm a bit of an amateur archaeologist and––"

"More than amateur from what I hear," Sull interrupted, lifting her eyebrows. She didn't let go of his arm.

"Thank you," Picard sighed a soft smile. Then he continued, "I'd like to talk some history... maybe we could have tea."

"I would adore that, Captain." They nodded gently at each other, satisfied. Picard freed himself from her grasp and left Ten Forward.

Wandering back into the crowd, Sull remained on the periphery, drinking water. She watched Dell glimmer in the shining light of Dr. Crusher. After another glass, Sull looked up to see Worf heading for the exit.

She broke away from the bar and followed him. "Lieutenant," she said.

He stopped in front of her, a grizzled smile playing across his face. "Chancellor," he said. She did not correct him. "It has been a pleasure drinking with you tonight. I hope to see you again on this voyage." He reached out his hand and she took it in the Partian style.

"As do I, Lieutenant." She grinned and he nodded once. Then Worf dropped her hand and left the room, the doors hushing after him.

Worf's timing could not have been worse. He left the Chancellor's attention free just as Barclay approached the door. "Are you leaving, too?" The Chancellor gazed at the Lieutenant in disappointment.

Barclay looked as if he'd been hit by a violent wind. His height extended and he thought of backing up as she approached him. He found it uncomfortable that she was shorter than he was; he'd imagined she'd be tall for some reason. "Yes...!" he finally answered with a gasp.

"Are you on duty in the morning?" She stepped to his right and took his elbow. Before he could process it she was walking him out of Ten Forward.

"Yes, at 1100 hours... but..." He glanced back to see La Forge grinning with the empty Klingon glass in his hand.

"That's excellent!" she exclaimed. "I'm going to visit Engineering in the morning. But, please, let me escort you to your quarters. I simply must know all about the invidium incident. I heard there was some great gossip!"

For several minutes she and Barclay walked through the decks of the Enterprise. They had chatted about the invidium incident and returned to that very embarrassing moment. "You know, I've had broccoli," the Chancellor said. "I like it with cheddar cheese.".

"I rather... like it, myself..." Barclay stuttered. "But it wasn't so pleasant having the Captain call me Broccoli."

The Chancellor shook her head and grinned. "I can't believe he did that. It's so terrible I can't help but laugh."

"Yes," he said, blushing. "I have almost recovered from that incident." He stopped at the door to his quarters and they opened. "Well," he held his hands behind his back, "these are my quarters. It––it was nice..."

"I make you nervous." Sull held her hands in front of her.

Reg flushed brighter red and crossed his arms. "Well, no... of course not... I––"

"You can say yes, Reg!" She chuckled and stepped forward.

"I'm... sorry." He dropped his head. "I'm sure... you can understand... why." He implored her with his eyes.

"Of course I can. It's reasonable. But I hope we can become friends. I'll see you in Engineering tomorrow." But then she paused and tilted her head, feeling a little fuzzy from drink. "You know, Lieutenant," she said quietly and stepped closer. "You're really quite adorable."

Barclay's heart stopped.

The combadge on his chest chirped and a (literally) commanding voice broke the silence. "Captain Picard to Lieutenant Barclay." Barclay yelped. He held his breath and tried to pull focus, his eyes closed. He heard Sull laughing.

He looked at her and with her facial agreement to keep quiet he took a deep breath before hit his badge, "Broc––Barclay here... sir..." He huffed.

"Is Chancellor Sull with you?" Picard's voice asked sternly. "She was not in her quarters and the computer indicated she is at your quarters." That Captain sounded formidable.

Barclay felt in trouble, "Yes... " he stammered, trying to steady is heaving.

"I'm here, Captain." Sull leaned forward, placing a comforting hand on Barclay's shoulder.

There was a noticeable pause. "Well," he began, "I am sorry to disturb you at this late hour, but I've had some pressing news from Starfleet. It is imperative that I speak with you. Could you meet me in Conference presently?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Picard out." With that the corridor was silent again.

"Perhaps the universe is punishing me for partying so late," she said as she chuckled. Barclay was quiet. "I will see you in Engineering at 1130 hours." She smiled, adjusting her hair.

He let out one exhausted laugh. "Yes." He nodded. After that she walked away from his quarters, leaving him to wonder if she had actually called him "adorable" or if he'd imagined it.

Sull walked down the corridor after leaving Barclay and then paused, thinking ahead. She smiled knowingly. She touched the com panel on the wall. "Sull to Captain Picard."

Lights sprang to life. "Picard here. What is it, Chancellor?"

"You haven't contacted Dell, have you?" She let her hand rest on the smooth wall.

There was a pause. "I was about to locate him."

"I'd prefer you not." Her statement stood with finality.

After a pause, Picard's voice conceded, "Very well, Chancellor." Sull left the silence of the corridor in favor of a turbo lift. It glided through the hull of the Enterprise like the dreams of the children aboard.


	4. Chapter 4

"The Chancellor left her robe," Riker exclaimed just after Sull left with Barclay.

Lem took it from him, Crusher's hand resting on his wrist daintily. "Yes, she does that. You know how it is with the elderly. She wanders around leaving things."

"I heard you left your shoes behind in the Senate halls once," Troi said with a giggle.

"Did Lellee tell you that?" He sneered playfully.

"You know how it is with the elderly," she said, winking. Troi took Riker's arm and they turned to leave, though he stopped when his combadge chirped.

"Looks like we all have the same idea." La Forge sat his empty glass down and walked out of Ten Forward with Worf, followed shortly by the Commander and Counselor.

"May I walk you to your quarters?" Lem as he gestured for the Doctor to lead him.

"Yes." She smiled. "I can't remember when I've had this much fun."

"Nor can I, Beverly." His arm flexed under her grip. Crusher's head buzzed from the Klingon martini and she felt practically giddy as she looked down at her feet moving next to the Senator's.

She hadn't felt this way in such a long time. Passionate infatuations don't come aboard a starship often and rarely head into sickbay. Crusher felt dazed looking up at Lem, scanning his strong jaw and soft, sandy skin. He'd called himself a pup. She marveled at his commanding presence and his graceful manners.

As they walked and he talked about his father's dermatological work, she became acutely aware of herself. That self-consciousness was empowering. She lifted her chin, realizing that this intelligent and charming man next to her had spent the entire evening by her side.

"This is me." She paused in front of the door.

"I have yet another confession for you, Beverly." Lem leaned in closer.

"They have all been good, so I am interested." She shifted her weight and the door responded by opening. The pause between her and the Senator was mildly awkward.

"Well, I have to say that I was already incredibly keen to meet you when I came aboard." He wrapped her hand in his.

"I was too." She sighed.

"My confession is," his voice dropped to a whisper, "I am completely infatuated with you." Crusher giggled and looked away from his eyes. She inadvertently allowed him passage to run his nose along her ear, where he whispered, "I hope you don't find that too shocking."

"No, I'm quite pleased..." She closed her eyes at the feeling of his intensely hot breath on her neck. His whispers were like kisses. She marveled at what his kisses might be like.

"I hope you continue to feel that way," he whispered again. "I shall try to control myself, but I am concerned." He swiveled his head around to maintain his proximity but focus on her eyes. "I fear that being in your presence will drive me mad with desire." He grinned. "But being away from you will surely kill me." He gently kissed her jaw and a squeak was seduced from her throat.

She tried to pull her mind together, but it was intensely difficult. "How about this?" she asked and he pulled away for a moment. He looked concerned. But she bit her lip. "If you go mad I'll refer you to Counselor Troi."

His mouth opened as if to laugh, but he paused, searching her face and settling his gaze on her lips. She saw him glance to his right and then suddenly, without warning, he swept her into his arms and fled into her quarters.

The door slid shut behind them and they stood in the dark. "Dell," Crusher whispered.

"Should I leave?" he asked gently, his muscles tensing. His hands rested on the small of her back. She could tell he was resisting a powerful desire to grab her. She found that endlessly satisfying.

"Perhaps..." she began. His resolve faltered and he slid his nose along her neck. She felt him breathe her in, and she shuddered from the softness and electricity of his mouth on her. He was trying desperately to be gentle and not go too far. "Perhaps we could have lunch," he said, "or breakfast." She lifted her head and met his eyes. She began to curse herself, wondering if she really needed to step back from this.

"What is it?" he asked as he noticed her expression souring. "Have I offended you?"

Crusher snapped back to reality. "No, no, Dell." She relished the feeling of his arms under her hands. She slid them up almost to his shoulders. "I'm just not sure how to approach this."

"I believe that having lunch or breakfast is the best decision then," he said reasonably. "I hope I have not upset you by being too forward. I find you so desirable because of how much I admire and respect you. So forgive me, and I will say goodnight." He smiled, took his hands from her, and moved slowly to kiss her chastely on the cheek. In that instant she abandoned all of her control and turned to catch his mouth in hers. He groaned. It was loud. She was startled. He was startled. His left hand ran up her spine dexterously and his right found her hair.

Their mouths parted. Crusher felt her knees buckle at the sensation of his incredibly hot tongue. Images flashed in her head: him lying on the bio bed, holding her hand, brushing his hair aside, blushing at her gaze.

And then there he was. She'd slipped off his tunic. She was shocked at herself. She nimbly unfastened his pants. She couldn't believe her actions. It seemed like magic that as he kissed her so completely, she'd managed to strip him naked without opening her eyes.

He stopped kissing her. He pulled his face away. When she opened her eyes she gasped at his smile, his face flushed with want. "I think this is a little unfair..." He glanced down. She gasped again, taking in his form. His skin was sandy-colored and smooth from toe to neck. His chest was broad and dusted with black curly hair. Without shame she stared at every piece of him. She ran her hand over his hip and was lured by his thick and firm attention.

"This seems pretty fair to me." She shook her head in disbelief. Lem began to take her hair down, kissing her neck and gently turning his attention to the few buttons lining the back of her dress. As she touched the hard lines of his obliques she moaned softly with each new piece of flesh his hands and mouth found.

Finally she matched his nakedness. He dropped to his knees before her, worshiping her with kisses and running his hands up to her breasts. With her attention completely kept, he stood up and lifted, so he could carry her to the bed. She yelped slightly but quieted with a smile once they found the softness of her bedding.

"You are remarkably beautiful, Beverly. It's such a thrill..." He touched her cheek as he laid over her.

"A thrill?" she whispered, desperately wanting the right answer.

"I was completely seduced before I even saw you. I don't know how I didn't rip my clothes off in sickbay when you walked in." He didn't wait for her to laugh. He descended from her gaze to pay loving attention to her feminine folds. His hot tongue sent shocks and reverberations up her spine and through her nervous system.

Through complete desire and the passionate attention of Lem's mouth, Crusher eclipsed every orgasmic delirium she'd experienced before. Not even her shuddering scream could bring her back to reality. It only compelled Lem to return his mouth to her mouth and slide himself into her with intense and overwhelming anticipation.

When they collapsed an unknowable time later, Crusher's quarters were intensely warm. "Computer, reduce temperature by ten degrees," the Doctor called out.

"Oh, that will be much better." Lem sighed a muffled sigh into her neck as he lay still on top of her.

Crusher chuckled. "I think we might cool further with a break." She was panting and held humor in the back of her throat. "I wish I had a white flag." She giggled.

He pushed himself up and looked down at her "White flag?" He stared, puzzled and sleepy looking.

"You wave a white flag when you surrender." She waved an imaginary flag in illustration.

"Oh..." He smiled and blushed, rolling off of her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be!" She turned to him, resting her chin on her hand. "You are just so beautiful..." She bit her lip.

"Saying things like that makes me question your surrender." He heaved and she watched his barrel chest glitter with light sweat. "Goodness." He exclaimed suddenly, "It's funny how different Humans and Partians are with regards to temperature. I can barely stand the air in here, yet it feels so cool and satisfying to be inside of you." He rolled closer and kissed her wrist.

She groaned, feeling seduced again. "You certainly don't feel cool to me." She relaxed on her back. "But I like it." She looked at the ceiling. "I could sleep for days after this night."

"Dream of me?" he whispered innocently.

She purred, "I can barely think of anything else when I'm awake."

She trailed off as he kissed her ear. "Dream of me kissing your ears and sliding my hand between your legs."

Crusher laughed and sat up on the edge of the bed. "My god!" She searched the corners of the room.

"Have I done something wrong? What is it?" He bolted up and scooted behind her. She turned and looked into his beseeching eyes. He looked so young. If he'd been a human male she'd thought him no more than 28. His face was so playful and expressive. He couldn't hide anything even if he tried.

"You have done everything right, believe me." She smiled. "It's just a strange situation for me."

"Strange?" His brows rose sheepishly.

"It's good. It's just funny. Compared with human appearance and aging I feel like I'm the older of us. You look so young, so powerful."

"You're a seductress, Beverly." He bit his lip.

Her heart fluttered. "That's a new name for me. Doctor, Mom, Commander... Wife. It's strange."

"I can understand that. I've had a few titles myself." He stroked her shoulder. "But you, for you I can think of so many other titles. Seductress is the first of a long list," He kissed her neck, "Darling," then her ear, "Siren," and her jaw, "Goddess."

With that Crusher began to cackle and fell back onto the bed. Then she said breathlessly, "You have got to be kidding me!"

"What?" He seemed broken hearted, laying his hand on her stomach.

"Oh, Dell, I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes. "You must understand how humans are different. I know you mean it. I know you do. It's just... I've never been called a _goddess_."

"I'm appalled to hear that." He climbed on top of her with his face serious but his member thickening.

"I can't imagine sleeping with you here." She sighed as he slipped between her legs again.

"No more white flag?" he asked, kissing her breasts and neck. She nodded, but didn't answer and he smoothly thrust into her. It wasn't romantic or restrained. She loved it, how he made love to her. She was so overwhelmed by his dynamics as a lover and so pleased. She could do and get what she wanted with him. They were like a perfect physical reaction together. She pondered all of this until the words left her brain in favor of practical cries. She accepted a void in her consciousness and she accepted him as an animal, pounding her hungrily as he growled and called her name.


	5. Chapter 5

"Why do you suppose she was in front of Barclay's quarters?" Riker asked incredulously, with just the hint of a smile as he quickly took a seat at the table, adjusting his shirt.

With a huff Picard said, "I am sure I don't know, Commander." The Captain had not looked up from the P.A.D.D. and he stroked his temple as the headache deepened. He recalled the Doctor commenting on how she not often saw headaches and he cursed the alcohol that so belonged to his youth.

Captain Picard closed his eyes for a moment and remembered the familiar flavor of wine, tequila, whiskey, and rum flowing into his mouth as a young man in San Francisco. He remembered giggles and rumors and a sense of important debauchery, though he was neither a prude nor a stud of sociability. But he remembered the times he was brazen. He snickered.

He loathed waiting for the Chancellor. He felt as though he'd spent so much time merely waiting for her presence. He found himself wishing he could engage Senator Lem more. He felt a certain kinship with the gentle man, but scolded himself when he found his affection turning to the paternal.

"She is old enough to make her own decisions," the Captain announced after a considerable amount of time had passed from his immediate response to the Commander's question.

"I don't doubt that at all, Captain." Riker sat down in a conference chair to the Captain's right. "But I hope you'll forgive me for being somewhat curious. It's certainly not what I expected."

"No, indeed not." The Captain leaned back after dropping his new orders onto the table. Fatigue was setting in and he felt the odd dream of an illusory peace that had been sure to come. Yet he'd felt that hope for some time as the Enterprise was further delayed from shore leave. He began to wonder if he'd descended into some sort of Sartrean hell and the final circle consisted of adolescent-like conjecture.

"I am beginning to think I should not hold any expectations of the Chancellor whatsoever. I should be forever baffled by her." He laced his fingers together against his mouth.

"I think Deanna would call that a healthy conclusion." Riker smiled.

The door decompressed open and Sull slid in, light as chiffon, without the slightest indication of fatigue. Riker could smell the alcohol on her still as it seemed to simmer from her warmth.

"Captain, Commander," she said. "I hope you weren't waiting too long." She hurried to the Captain's left hand and sat gingerly in the chair.

There was a pregnant pause. The Captain began, having averted his eyes to the reflection of the Chancellor's face in the conference table, "Chancellor, there has been a threat on your life." He looked up.

"By whom?" Sull's face was still.

"Those called the Alldem Front." Picard sighed.

"I was wondering when they were going to get around to me." She leaned back in her chair.

"There has been evidence," the Captain continued, "to suggest that they intend to strike at you during your stay on Earth.

The Chancellor stiffened. "That is an unacceptable risk to Earth."

"As we received this report we learned we were to be diverted," Riker interjected. "A science space station in this sector has suffered serious internal damage from some kind of flux they can't pinpoint. Life support and climate control are critical and we must attend to the people aboard."

"You wish me to stay aboard this vessel," Sull said.

"Yes." Picard nodded. "Initially it was concluded that a small supply ship docked at the station would take you and the Senator to Earth while we assisted in repairing the science station."

"That is not possible now." The Chancellor wiped at her cheek.

"I am not very familiar with the Alldem Front," Riker said. "Are they from the Alldem moon?" Riker leaned forward.

"Yes," Sull began. "There's been a long-term unrest on our distant moon. The inhabitants are a general mixture of Partian, Romulan, and Human."

"Romulan?!" Riker nearly shouted.

"These mixings began long ago, Commander," Picard soothed.

"Indeed, sir," Sull continued. "The evolution of the Alldem people included the development of natural mortality, life-spans of about a century. They also shifted towards a more passionate lifestyle. While the Partian government and our society have had no problem with that, Alldem extremists have been organizing for the last fifty years into a very conservative perspective that finds Partian reason and our immortality unacceptable. They have begun to consider us inferior."

"Inferior?" Riker probed.

"They believe we have nothing to drive us if there is no fear of death. They believe we are ancestors who have not evolved and that makes us relics. They want independence, but they have an imperial, supremacist streak that we cannot ignore for the sake of our more reasonable citizens on Alldem. The moon is represented in the Senate, but that has not satisfied the Front." Sull took a deep breath.

"So they've begun threatening Partian governmental figures," Picard interjected.

"Don't they realize that as you are an Ambassadorial figure as well as a retired Admiral puts them at odds with the Federation?" Riker leaned on the table.

"They have become overwhelmed with arrogance," she said. "They've isolated themselves from our world and indeed from reason." Sull closed her eyes. "They do not realize that fear of death is not a necessity for a good life. They believe we need to be scared, to be subjugated like ancient animals. The immediate dream is secession, which is unacceptable for the risk to systems beyond our own."

"How will your government deal with this?" Picard asked.

"I don't know," Sull confirmed. "It is profitless to attempt to reason with the unreasonable. It is most frustrating that our only option is to do nothing. They must decide if as a faction they are prepared to instigate Civil War."

"They're banking on the Prime Directive," Riker said, sneering.

"As they should, Commander," Sull replied, professorially. "Hopefully we can keep them in that scope. Partia does not want this faction to threaten anyone beyond our system. They've been gallivanting around on ships of their own, but they've yet to commit any crimes we can prove." Sull smiled. "So!" she said, slapping the arm rests. "I must stay aboard in the midst of your warm company." She swiveled to face Picard.

"Yes." He placed a combadge on the table. "I would like you to wear this during your stay aboard the ship."

"That's fine." She attached it to her dress and Picard's gaze flickered between her breasts and neck. He looked away. "Has Dell been threatened?" Sull demanded his attention.

"No. He has not. It's been indicated they are threatening you as a rallying cry to the whole of the moon." He began to stand.

"Yes, that makes sense," she said thoughtfully. "I will tell Dell in the morning that he should continue on to Earth aboard that supply ship if he wishes." She stood without formality.

"It's regrettable this news came at such a late hour," Riker commented as they walked toward the door.

"Indeed, Commander," Sull agreed.

"Hopefully you can rest well even with this concern on you." Picard tried to show sympathy in his face.

"I will be fine, Captain." Sull took his forearm. "I believe that I and we will be perfectly alright for the night aboard the Enterprise."

"Should there be a problem should we find you again in Lieutenant Barclay's quarters?" Riker asked unexpectedly, walking out of the room backwards. Picard's eye burned into his First Officer, who resisted a smirk. Riker instantly regretted his indiscretion and knew not how it had slipped out from him. He suddenly felt very young.

"No," she replied casually. "I had hoped the Captain might escort me to my quarters." Sull looked ahead stoically as if the question were about the migratory patterns of terran birds or the stillness of the outer space all around them.

"I would be happy to," Picard replied. The Captain strolled along formally with the Chancellor as Riker fell back, smarting from the stinging rebuke in Picard's eyes.

"I bid you goodnight, Chancellor." Riker bowed slightly.

"Don't bow to a Chancellor. Take my hand." She grabbed his palm lightly and wrapped her thumb around his. He sighed slightly in spite of himself at her warmth. He was terrified for a moment that she'd noticed.

"Goodnight, Lellee." He squeezed her hand slightly and then pulled away, softly stroking her fingers as he turned. His face flushed and he shook his head, cursing himself over his desperation for gossip.

"Your Commander seemed very curious about my evening with Lieutenant Barclay." Sull sighed a little smile and held tightly to the Captain's arm.

He stiffened from his previous relaxation. "I am sorry for that. It was impertinent of him to probe clandestinely."

"Probe?" She looked at him.

Picard immediately regretted his words and revelation. "It has been a long night," he maneuvered. "I believe that fatigue and drink have made us a bit more casual than is appropriate."

"I believe our presence has contributed to that. I appreciate it." She stopped and turned to him as they were close to her quarters.

"I am glad you were not offended," he said as he pulled his arm away from her.

"I know it is late but I would like to talk to you a moment." She turned briskly as if there were no argument to be had and walked into her quarters.

Picard grumbled and followed. He looked around the room and noted that she kept the lights dim. He wanted to stay as close to the door as possible.

"Oh, I left my robe in Ten Forward." She had put some distance between them and stood at the foot of the bed.

"I believe Counselor Troi has it," he said. "I'm sure you will see it again." He locked his hands together in front of him.

"Oh that's very good." She walked closer. "I get the sense that you don't like me very much, Captain. I am concerned that you object to my behavior. I only know of you from your service record. I expected that I would understand immediately how you run your ship's mood. However, I find that while greeted with exceptional warmth and pleasantry you have remained very stiff and distant. Is this nature of your staff unnatural?"

Picard's mouth went dry. He did not answer for several moments. He actually looked away and took a seat. Sull looked amazed. "I am very sorry, Chancellor." She sat and looked so sad. "I did not mean to offend you with my demeanor. My crew is made up of some of the best officers in the fleet. I know you recognize that. They have all assumed their roles and established the necessary morale for the ship. However, I do not participate much in the social network."

Sull smiled. "I have forced you into an uncomfortable position." The smile left her, but she stared at him.

"In a manner of speaking you have." He held up a reassuring hand, however. "But I have not been offended by that shift. I am pleased to see my crew so diverted. And perhaps the strain of delayed shore leave has weighed more heavily on them than I realized." He pursed his lips and huffed, hands on his knees. "Commander Riker's behavior was unacceptable." He glanced up suddenly.

"I can see why you would think that." Sull crossed her legs.

"Though I can reason out why he asked such a question. I am unsure if I should engage him for it." He laced his fingers together and looked at her, hoping for a suggestion, orders, something.

"Are you waiting for me to say something?" Sull asked after a few moments of staring.

"I suppose I am." He smiled. "I must admit that your presence is very strange."

"Strange?" She giggled.

"It is unfortunate that you have sensed that I dislike you. I reacted badly. I am sure you realize that you leave people somewhat star struck." He offered a feeble smile.

One complete squeal left her as if she were a teenager. "My stars, star struck." She bit her lip. "I'm flattered. I have worked very hard and I appreciate the recognition of someone of your caliber, but I struggle with my own otherness amidst humans."

"I can see that." Picard lost his smile. "But in complete answer to your initial question, this behavior of my crew is not normal. Natural? Perhaps it is their natural selves. However, there is an air of the unprofessional of which I find myself… disapproving."

"And Dell and I have instigated it." She folded her hands.

"To an extent, yes." He nodded.

"What do you want us to do?" Her face was still.

His was too. "I cannot think of a reasonable answer, a reasonable direction to give you."

"There are unreasonable answers."

With a great breath that lifted his chest, he looked away and back again. "Riker's indiscretion voiced an i_ss_ue growing aboard this ship having to do with your interaction with the crew."

"Dell and Beverly."

Picard's eyes narrowed. "Yes..." He regretted the yes. "It's just... rumors disquiet me."

"Rumors?"

"Yes."

"What if they are true?" She smiled.

Without thinking he snapped, "Of Dell and Beverly? Of you and Barclay?"

"News of me walking him to his quarters has already spread?" She giggled.

Picard's mind fluttered at the indication that Sull's presence at Barclay's quarters warranted the Lieutenant's extra stutters. They were fraternizing. He wanted to shout at her. He had never been bothered by the relationships of his crew. It was irrelevant. But like he said, he was bothered by rumors. The ship was a large hot house and the weeds of conjecture were growing unlike any he'd seen or heard before. It was all their fault. Sull and Lem. They were old and powerfully intelligent, full of experience and a seemingly endless confidence. They had come aboard and stolen the attention of everyone like silly sorcerers.

And here was the leading witch. He was angry at her. It was completely unreasonable. Then he realized he could no longer lie to himself about the other cause of his agitation and frustration, for he nearly groaned at the sight of her thoughtlessly licking her lips.

"Well, Captain..." she began, "I am contrite. I did not wish to offend you or anyone. I will attempt to be more discreet with my diversions. I hope you are not angry enough with me to revoke your invitation to tea." The side of her mouth pulled into a small titillating smile.

He wanted to revoke it for the sake of peace, but he couldn't. "Of course not, Chancellor." He stood.

"You have no idea how hard it is to not ask you to call me Lellee." She walked over to him.

"Is it?" He held his breath.

"I know that you couldn't do it. It's not your way. I respect that. I just want you to know that I'd like it very much." She slid by him toward the door.

"I appreciate your observation, Chancellor." He nodded and turned to leave, but he stopped. He looked over his shoulder and saw her eyes almost beseeching. For a quick moment the thoughts of her intense warmth and the soft simplicity of her face overwhelmed him as he moved to engage her again. In that moment she looked to him like a fresh young officer, save the subtle in-humanness of her bone structure and the incandescent nature of her skin. He almost grabbed her savagely and kissed her. The impulsive fantasy ran through his head and drew out into erotic images of his mouth exploring every part of her body that was hidden by gauzy fabric. But those images lasted only a few seconds and she seemed to notice none of the changes in his demeanor.

He merely took her hand the Partian way, his thumb wrapped around hers. He whispered as if there were others to hear, "Goodnight, Lellee."


	6. Chapter 6

After the Captain left, Sull sat listlessly on her bed. This was supposed to be a vacation, she grumbled to herself. Then she sighed. Strangely, she was glad that they'd pushed this far. The Alldem front were unfurling a plan long planned. It was too late at night for her to discuss the reasoning behind this threat.

The Alldem front were comprised of exceptionally clever reactionaries who also did very well as professional victims. Their brazen announcement of their intentions fit well with their rather dramatic and petty rhetoric. Knowing their nature, the Partians––and thus Starfleet––would take this threat seriously.

So now she was to be nestled safely aboard the Enterprise. Surely they would not be so bold as to attack the Galaxy Class Flagship captained by one of the greatest strategists in the history of Starfleet. And even if they did feel bold enough about going after her, on a standard trajectory toward the Terran system, they would still be engaged with the Enterprise when reinforcements arrived. It would be a failed suicide mission unless they could be captured.

Sull leaned back and thought of Dell. He was impulsive, but he had good senses and excellent reason. The Partian Government was young. Among the entire parliament he was a peer. The oldest serving Senator was half Sull's age.

She remembered somewhat regretfully how she had overestimated the young most often when she _was_ young. She took things for granted. She was totally assured of herself as she dove into the incredible idea of extensive space exploration. The term in English was _frontier_. She had flown out onto it, armed only with assumptions and desperation for knowledge.

Sull knew that the young Government was extremely successful. They represented the most progressive and prosperous people in the million years since Partians first climbed down from the trees. But, there was a problem. They were limited by their undeveloped sense of time and change. She had studied this phenomenon among Partians, though it was not often discussed for it was humbling and confusing. Partians change when they age, as any humanoid species does. Where their anatomy is nearly impervious to change, their minds comprehend unending change. They stand still as the worlds spin.

At an age when they first start to truly appreciate the benefits of their memories, they begin to seek out more. The aspiration to adventure drove the Partians into the sky and into everyone else's business. In this pursuit of _more_ one can, on occasion, fail to fully investigate.

Partia and Starfleet had not fully investigated this threat. Sull was quite sure that there would indeed be a second move by the Front. But, as she told Captain Picard, the only option was to do nothing. She sighed at the realization that they were in fact doing _something_. They were waiting.

Sull didn't feel tired at all. But she did determine that she'd have to stop drinking for the foreseeable future. Diplomacy often required libation and she'd been working too hard.

She got up and stepped into the shower where she rinsed off in very cold water. She sighed, dried, and put on a blue cotton tunic and pants. She retrieved a glass of grapefruit juice from the replicator and thought about what she could do. But at this hour, there'd be little product in it.

So she looked up at the pad above the replicator. She touched it a few times and then said, "Computer, where is Lieutenant Commander Data?"

"Commander Data is arriving at Deck 2 via the turbolift."

Sull turned around and picked up the combadge from her frock. She put it on her chest and tapped it. "Chancellor Sull to Lieutenant Commander Data."

There was a pause and then, "Data here."

"Good morning, Commander. Am I disturbing you?" She smiled as she said it.

"No, Chancellor. I am returning to my quarters."

"Would you like to visit me now?" she asked.

She could not see that Data lifted his chin and blinked, puzzled. "Visit you in your quarters, Chancellor?"

"Yes, Commander. I can't sleep and thought perhaps you would be interested in _talking some shop_, as the humans say."

Data blinked again, making a satisfactory conclusion that he understood her reference. He had considered practicing his violin or looking up the artist _Basquiat_ that the Captain had mentioned until he was due on the bridge at 0900 hours. He often took the Bridge as others slept, but everyone had adjusted their schedules to accommodate the reception.

Determining that he had not even considered that he would have the opportunity to speak with the Chancellor independently of others, it would be prudent to take this opportunity.

"Thank you, Chancellor. I accept your invitation. I will arrive in approximately six minutes. Data out."

The Chancellor smiled and ran to the mirror to take down her hair. The curls bounced on her shoulders and she smiled to think that her hair was the longest it had ever been, and yet her father had hair that curled down to his hips.

Suddenly Sull gasped. Then she groaned and chuckled, her eye closed. When the door chimed she laughed outright.

"Come in," she said. In walked Lieutenant Commander Data. She had not studied cybernetics for very long, given the youth of the discipline, but she was rather fascinated with Data's overall narrative, his biography, and his ontology. She was fascinated by him as a being and had read a number of papers on his makeup. He was everything a Vulcan wanted to be. But, like Vulcans, Sull was sure that Data actually had feelings, though nobody had so far been able to understand them.

"Good morning, Chancellor. Are you well?" he asked politely, his head tilted.

She blinked in surprise. "Commander, you are very perceptive."

"I am not sure what you mean, Chancellor." he said, looking puzzled.

"Please call me Lellee." She gestured to the couch and he sat down.

"Thank you, Lellee. You may call me Data." The corners of his mouth pulled up in minor smile that was entirely sincere.

Sull was dumbfounded. He certainly could suggest feelings, but did he understand them? "Thank you, Data." She blinked a few times as she examined his face and decided she liked it. "I'm afraid," she began, "that I misled you as to my reasons for the invitation."

"Oh?" he replied.

"I did not realize it at the time, so I hope you'll forgive me." She smiled, but didn't expect him to. "I realized after I had called that I didn't want to _talk shop_. I didn't want to be alone. But everyone has retired…"

"And I do not sleep," he finished, lifting his eyebrows.

"Marvelous…" she said, staring into his gold eyes.

"Lellee?" he said, blinking them.

"I'm sorry, Data. This has been a strange day. You asked me if I was all right, and I am displeased to say I am not. The Alldem Front has made a threat on my life. They're executing a plan. The fact that we don't understand it could mean disaster. Apparently there's been an accident on a Space Station to which the Enterprise will be diverted, so..." She looked down. She had not intended to confide this in him, but he had disarmed her with his thoughtfulness.

"I am familiar with the Alldem Front," he replied. "I suppose you are to remain aboard the ship while we repair the Space Station."

"Yes," she replied. "But I'm starting to feel nervous about it."

"Do you think it is possible that the threat is merely a way of manipulating us into changing our previous course?"

"I do," she said quietly.

"But they could not predict the distressed Space Station." He said it with finality.

"Has their plan been foiled, you mean?" she replied. "I like your optimism, Data."

He furrowed his brow in a very endearing way. "It is a logical conjecture. It is not unlikely."

"It's also not unlikely that they are still on target."

"That is true. However, with all of the present information, it is more…" He looked away and then back, "_encouraging_ to consider the best-case scenario."

"Look on the bright side until we know what's in the dark," she added. "Data, that is rather like optimism." She lifted her eyebrows.

"As a former Engineer, I suspect you understand that I lack the emotions to create an optimistic mindset." He blinked and his face became strangely still.

"I disagree," she said simply.

He furrowed his brow. "With what do you disagree?"

"You have displayed optimistic thinking, by definition," she said professorially. "That could only happen if you do have the sensations. I have not thoroughly studied cybernetics, but with what I know about it and the many species in this universe, it seems incredibly evident that you are capable of abstract mindsets. You have consciousness. Maybe someone will prove me dead wrong, but my hypothesis is that there are two issues regarding the unwieldy concept that is your emotional capability. One is that you are essentially unique, so we lack extensive empirical evidence of how you process emotional stimuli. The second is that we can find relevant information in Vulcans. Vulcans are a species that endeavor to purge emotion. When they are successful, they behave much in the way that you do. But, consider this: Vulcans _still_ have emotions. They repress them, but they have them. And they are emotions unlike human emotion, Partian emotion, Klingon emotion. Have you not considered the very simple conclusion I'm suggesting?

"I am not sure I understand your conclusion," he said and blinked.

"You have emotions, Data. You just have _android_ emotions."

Data looked away and mulled this over. In her clarification he did find he had considered her point. It was a theory he found unsatisfactory in a way he could not fully articulate.

"I find that theory unsatisfactory in a way I cannot fully articulate." He looked at her intensely.

She smiled. "You want to have human emotion." She folded her hands in her lap.

Data thought on this and then he nodded. If he already had emotions, he would never feel as humans do. "To accept that hypothesis would mean ceasing all of my present activities. All of my efforts are to better myself, to become more than I am. I do not wish to abandon my goals."

"But humans do the same and they feel as you aspire to." She lifted her eyebrows. Data stared at her, seemingly without comment. "You don't want to stop living as you do. You are satisfied with your efforts, committed to sharing your skills with others, and you have strong interpersonal bonds with people whom you respect and admire." She leaned forward. "Data… you're content."

She smiled widely at Data, who looked puzzled again. But his eyes searched the room swiftly. Then he tilted his head and gazed at her again. "These are interesting ideas. I was aware that Partians are advanced philosophers, but I did not anticipate you would share ideas like this, that are… encouraging." He blinked again and understood for the first time, that he might be capable of something like the analogue of hope.

"Thank you, Lellee," he said. "I believe Counselor Troi would find meaning in your attention to me when you are in a difficult and disturbing situation."

"I don't want to think about that, I suppose." She leaned back. "I feel rather petty about it, but I am disappointed about my vacation."

"I have seen how a lack of leave affects the crew aboard this vessel. It appears very stressful."

Sull nodded. She watched the Commander as he sat still in front of her. She definitely liked his face. He wasn't generically handsome, but he looked interesting. Really, he was an attractive man. If she had seen him at a bar in Jamaica, she would have tried to pick him up.

Then it hit her like a lightning bolt. He was already in her room. She couldn't help but smile roguishly and Data furrowed his eyebrows again as he studied her with confusion. They'd been silent for a while.

"Lellee, is there some way I may be of service?" he asked.

Her breath caught in her throat and she tried not to laugh. He was unaware of her feelings. It was interesting that this was a situation he did not perceive. "Perhaps… I was just thinking that if I'd met you at a bar in Jamaica I would try to pick you up." She smirked just slightly and crossed her legs.

Data blinked. "I surmise that I am too heavy, Lellee."

She laughed out loud; incredibly amused that he said such a thing. "I'm sorry to have used such a strange idiom," she said.

"Did you mean something else?" he asked.

"I meant that I would have flirted with you and asked you to come to bed with me." She entwined her fingers over her knee.

Data lifted his eyebrows. He looked confused. It was darling. "I do not know what to say to that."

"While I can't pick you up, do you think it is possible that you would have accepted my invitation?"

Data blinked again and squinted at her. This was a difficult question. He was fully functional, but not experienced. The information he had on the primary experience and secondary sources were complicated and difficult to process. But then, he found that other aspects of her comments were more curious. She had essentially said she wanted to have sexual contact with him. At the realization he looked at her body and her face. She was a unique woman. He had seen many and had been working on processing theories on beauty in general. Sull seemed to be a beautiful woman in the way she carried herself, the way others looked at her, and in the way that he had repeatedly recollected the time he had spent watching her at the party.

"Are you propositioning me for sex, Lellee?" he asked point blank.

She blinked and felt her face flush. "Yes, Data," she said after a moment. She was breathy and the room started to feel warmer.

Data blinked and contemplated this situation. It was then startling and strange that he had absently processed an inquiry to examine the programming he had for sexuality. He thought about how he would execute an erection so as to penetrate her. He formed a hypothetical image of her underneath him. To his great puzzlement, his member flexed and stiffened without having been actively commanded.

He looked down briefly, then back up at her face. He recollected material he had consumed on the concept of arousal. "I believe I have experienced sexual arousal," he said with elevated brows.

She flushed again. "Really? You felt an impulse?" She scooted forward on the chair.

Data squinted. "I am not sure. I thought about your request and contemplated the scenario. My processor automatically accessed my programming about performance, which was then partially activated when I envisioned penetrating you."

Sull groaned. "Data, I don't know what it is, but your directness is practically poetry. Please, let's make love. It will be fantastic." She had a brief thought that, in a way, she was doing exactly what worried the Captain. So she discarded the thought.

She stood up and looked down at him. He lifted his eyebrows and was not sure of the best course of action. There did not seem to be any consequences in the act. He resolved, finally, that he was curious, more than curious. He concluded that she would be able to have a profound effect on him.

So he stood up and walked with her to the bed. "Tell me what you're thinking," she said as she took his arms.

"I am attempting to process my programming on sexuality so as to determine my best course of action."

"What sounds the most interesting?" she asked.

"Let us kiss," he said. He bent down and caught her mouth in his. He felt cool and he was aware that her body temperature was much higher. It was an intriguing sensation combined with the firm and wet flesh of her mouth and tongue.

"Touch me," she said when she came up for air. "Be stimulated."

Data crushed her mouth again, invested in the sensations. Her hands ran all over his body until she found the zipper of his uniform jack and pulled it open. Her kisses became urgent as they undressed each other. Naked, he pulled away slightly and placed his right hand on her breasts. He wished to experience her nipples on his palm. Her small breasts were apparently soft and firm. He squeezed them gently and she sighed and trembled while he kissed her. Visualizing her open and ready for him spurred his programming on and he became remarkably hard.

She stepped closer and guided his hands to her hips. She ran her fingers along the contours of his chest and was fascinating by the fine black hair that peppered his pectorals. His body was fascinating.

"You are so beautiful, Data," she said into his ear as he nuzzled her neck. She ran her hands down to his hip bones and felt his erection press against her belly.

"Thank you, Lellee…" he whispered back. "Shall I make love to you now?" he asked quietly as she squeezed his cock. The action disrupted his processes for 0.015 seconds and he emitted a soft vocalization.

"Yes, please!" she replied and climbed into bed. He climbed on top of her and began to kiss her neck. He found the texture of her skin fascinating to touch with his lips. He seemed to process sensations in his spinal column and his erection flexed.

He leaned on his left hand and ran his right along the contours of her body. Then he placed his hand between her thighs and coaxed them open. He looked down on her wet vulva. The soft-looking folds looked human. Her clitoris analog was swollen.

He slid his hand up and down her thighs until his curiosity spurred him to run his fingers along the wet opening. She gasped and moaned. He looked away from between her legs to her face. Then he leaned down to kiss her, comparing the experience of his hand to the experience of his mouth. The rhythmic moaning and crying she emitted timed with his strokes along her clitoris and folds.

"Data," she said softly between kisses. It was like a command override and he automatically slipped his fingers inside of her. She gasped. He stroked her, her voice rising.

"Yes, Data!" she said. He continued on, slowing his pace, and then speeding it again. She panted and gripped his hair. She bit his bottom lip and his programming twitched again. He maneuvered himself between her legs and turned his face to bite her neck. She gasped a moan.

She reached down between their legs and took his cock in her hand. He instantly said, "Oh," as if he'd reached a conclusion. She rubbed the head of his phallus along the same path his fingers had taken. She let go and he left her neck to look into her eyes. With a still face he thrust inside of her. His processes were interrupted for 0.2 seconds.

She squealed. He was thick and hard. He was also strangely warm; not as warm as she was, but warmer than his mouth had been when they started. He kept an even and brutal pace. He slid in and out of her with controlled force and he was slow as if diligently collecting information. But his eyes were locked on hers. There was something awed about his expression and the more she moaned and cried out his name the more he appeared to be smiling.

"Is this sufficiently pleasurable?" he asked quietly.

"Yes! Data!" she called out. He shifted his weight slightly and began pumping into her hard, a bit faster than before. It was an overwhelming feeling as he fucked her so perfectly, enthralling every nerve with spectacular skill. Her voice rose higher and higher and she began to thrust upward to meet him.

Suddenly he reached his right hand down to her hip, which he gripped, and lifted with ease so her bottom was somewhat off the bed. Then he started to pound her. The bed shook. He thrust furiously, with force that she squealed and huffed with each collision. He dropped her from his grip, shifted his knees, and put his right hand between them. He slid his thumb over her clitoris and swirled it gently as he pounded her.

He contemplated her screaming for a moment as he noted how she flexed and squeezed him. His experience was somewhat overwhelming.

Lellee didn't have the skill to analyze anything in that moment. He had picked up speed again and said unexpectedly, "I want to experience your climax, Lellee. I want to finish inside of you by increasing my speed."

"Yes!" she shouted. "Fuck me, Data!"

Then she threw her head back and gasped for air. His speed and the trajectory of his penetration were disorienting. She felt her blood rushing through her body as the sensations ran up her spine. And as she approached ecstasy she heard him exclaim "Oh" again, but with more force. Then suddenly his method changed as he slowed to shallow thrusts. Sull trembled and warbled, the sensation of his cock as it stretched her completely overwhelming her. She climaxed like a fireworks show, the pleasure bursting as he made a sound as if climaxing himself. With the last sonic boom he slid deep inside her, grinding against her clitoris.

She continued to moan as his grinding slowed until, at last, she remained still and full of him. He was still hard, but he was breathing easily.

"That was amazing," she said quietly. "Can you fuck me from behind now?" she asked.

He blinked, surprised. He had thought she would want to discuss the situation. But he found that the idea of bending her over and drilling her while he squeezed her fleshy backside to be engaging.

So, he offered his odd android smile and pulled back onto his knees. Then he leaned forward, grabbed her hips, and flipped her over with no effort.

She giggled and moaned as his fingers probed her again. Then without ceremony, he slid into her. After squeezing her hips a few times and grinding himself against her bottom, he started to pound her in earnest. He continued as she climaxed and shuddered. Over the next two hours, she lost track of how many times she came and how many different positions they assumed.

But Data had a perfect record of everything. This fact would bring him great satisfaction in the future.


	7. Chapter 7

Dr. Crusher moved from the blackness of deep sleep to staring at the ceiling illuminated by surrounding stars. "Wow," she exclaimed. She hadn't felt the light amid the darkness of space quite like that moment. It was evocative of the first morning she was married, the first moment she felt completely held by love.

But did she love the warm Dell Lem lying next to her still as an all-stop? After a day? Without moving, she shifted her gaze to absorb him in her periphery. She found that love was suddenly indescribable. She in that moment resolved it would likely elude her forever.

Solace stole a meek smile from her. She breathed in, filling her belly with the air around her. Though she accepted the indefinable nature of her own feelings, she could in that moment embrace peace.

"You're awake." The faint whisper did not disturb her.

"You are too," she responded.

Lem very carefully rolled onto his side to gaze at her. He disturbed the bed and blankets as little as possible. Crusher couldn't even sigh for the tranquility. "It's amazing." Her eyelashes fluttered.

"What is, mel-nen?" He kissed her cheek.

"Mel-nen?" Her eyebrow rose and she rolled over, having finally been disturbed.

Lem smiled, "Sorry. It's a Partian nickname."

"Like 'dear' or 'darling' I hope." She smiled and ran her hand up his arm.

"It's something we say to people for whom we feel an amusing amount of affection." He grinned and snuggled closer.

"Amusing?" She brushed his hair away from his forehead and quivered as she looked into his eyes. He scooted closer to her.

"It means 'sweet face,' Beverly. Of all the names I have for you, in the end that is my favorite." He kissed her neck and gently slid a soft hand over her breasts.

"That is amusing..." She could not take her eyes off of the stars that were his eyes.

"So what's amazing?" He whispered in her ear.

She giggled, "I'm not sore..." He laughed and gazed at her, his face shadowed and his back to the window. "I feel perfectly wonderful. Wonderful, Lem. Sweet face." He grinned and she could see the flicker of the light reflecting off of her white skin into his eyes. He pressed against her and kissed at her ears. She closed her eyes a moment and when she opened them she was captivated by the stars. They seemed to get brighter as his skin roamed over her skin. When he lifted his head to watch her face as his mouth found its way between her legs his eyes seemed to darken.

* * *

Elsewhere, 1100 hours hit hard and La Forge's mouth felt pretty dry, having been working steadily for two hours. As he noted the time and his hangover, he thought he'd have to stop by sickbay for an analgesic. But in the meantime he would do his normal count to see how late Barclay would be.

Unusually, Barclay slid in right on time. He still seemed as frazzled as if fifteen minutes had preceded him.

"Hey, Reg." La Forge smiled a bit. Barclay knew his assignment for his shift and would not require handholding unless something unusual was on his mind.

La Forge found Barclay had something unusual on his mind. "That party last night was fantastic, eh?" He cocked an eyebrow.

Barclay lost his breath before stuttering, "...Yeah––Yes." He was shivering on the inside, so many different perspectives and ideas crashing through his head like a shuttle craft out of control. He had barely slept after Sull left him. He took two showers. He vigorously relieved himself without relief. He desired the Chancellor so much, feared what she was, and felt like a fool for the extent of his passion despite how little time he'd spent talking to her. Early at about 500 hours he asked himself the hardest question: What did she mean when she said he was adorable? Their short walk to his quarters was entirely platonic, and yet he felt as if the Captain had interrupted them in the middle of an embrace. He felt like an idiot for even thinking she might be attracted to him. Then he couldn't help but wonder... she had been so open. She was light-years above and beyond him, and yet she'd walked with him and asked about the events surrounding the most humiliating experience of his life.

La Forge could see the thoughts washing over Barclay's face with an agility that reminded him of how Data looked when absorbing computer information. "Intriguing..." He chuckled.

Barclay shot his eyes up, having sat on the floor to fiddle with a bewildering wad of wiring. "Sir?" He coughed.

La Forge put his tricorder down and leaned on the rail surrounding the engines, his engines. He looked at Barclay's red face and how he was probably going to burst at any minute. La Forge resolved in that moment to forgo conjecture. "You left with Lellee last night."

Barclay felt his heart in his throat. Did other people know? His Commander had used her first name so easily... He gulped and said, "Yes. She walked me to my quarters." He spoke as slowly as he could to avoid stuttering. La Forge continued to stand there, clearly very interested in details.

"I heard she stayed a while." He tried to keep his face still and pleasant. He'd been extremely surprised when Riker let it slip that he and the Captain had to call her from Barclay's quarters. As soon as Riker let it out, he'd cringed, as if he had been trying incredibly hard not to say anything, while desperately needing to gossip. He instructed that La Forge shouldn't mention it to anybody else, who in turn felt like talking to the man in question didn't count.

Barclay's eyes bloated. "You...did?" He felt trapped. La Forge just waited as he had no more information and did not want to put words in Barclay's mouth. Barclay took a deep breath. He said, "No… She just walked me to my door."

La Forge was suspicious at first. He had a feeling Sull took a shine to the Lieutenant. It could easily have been innocent and not-so innocent. He just nodded as Barclay began to sweat. La Forge settled on innocent. "Sounds nice, Reg. You want to help her when she comes in?"

He nearly choked. "If I'm needed, of course, sir."

Later, Barclay felt guilty sending an Ensign to clean and repair a plasma conduit. It was such menial work. He couldn't imagine being like La Forge, being a Commander and always telling people to do thankless jobs. He resolved he would be thankful to the Ensign.

"Th––thank you, Ensign. I––I know it's not a pleasant assignment..." Barclay said.

"Thank you, sir." She smiled beautifully. "I don't mind." She swiveled on her heel and set about her task as if she were totally happy to be aboard. Barclay was jealous of her resolve.

"When will be close enough?" Barclay turned to La Forge. They'd have to drop to impulse power if they were to attend to the Plasma injector.

"I think about now." La Forge tapped his combadge. "La Forge to Bridge."

"Bridge here," Riker answered.

"We'll need to drop to impulse to work on the Plasma injector."

"Proceed. Riker out."

La Forge, Barclay, and a few other lieutenants skipped off to the engines.

"Can I help?" The doors slid open and Sull slid in. La Forge turned to note she sported sensible linen pants and a short matching tunic in pink. He smiled.

"Lellee! Of course! Welcome to Engineering." La Forge reached for her hand. She took it and sighed happily as if she hadn't seen him in years. Barclay slipped around a corner in time to not be seen by the Chancellor.

"We'd love some help. We've just got a few bugs showing up when we hit Warp 3 that bother me." La Forge gestured for her to walk on to the central console.

"What's the bug?" Lellee tapped the pad a few times and examined the readouts. "Instability?"

"Yes," La Forge answered. "I think it's a hardware issue."

"That would make sense given the stress the ship has endured." Sull looked up and turned to lean against the console.

"Yeah. It's been rough. But I think it'll be fine. We've just got to get our hands dirty." He chuckled and looked away from her to call, "Reg!"

Barclay groaned and looked at the viewer ahead of him, wishing he could pretend he hadn't heard. But he had and he'd have to face the Chancellor. He dreaded how she would look at him. When he finally emerged into her presence and the Commander's, that look stole him. It was more subtle than he expected, but it was still the same. She looked at him as if he were a cadet and standing there fully naked.

"Ch––ch––Lellee..." He forced a weird smile.

La Forge stifled a giggle. "Reg, the Chancellor has offered to help us out. I've got to check out the magnetic interlock, so I can't help you with the plasma injectors."

"I'll join him then." She walked toward Barclay. "I was going to offer to assist aboard the Space Station, too."

"That's great, Lellee. Thank you." La Forge smiled his brilliant white smile and turned to leave.

"Geordi," Sull stopped him, "If we have a pause will you show me around some? It's been a long time since I've adored a starship's engines."

"Of course!" He smiled widely again.

"Excellent. You'll also have to tell me other ways to make you smile like that." She turned away, Geordi feeling rather charmed.

As La Forge disappeared to his duties, Sull turned to Barclay. With her walking toward him he panicked briefly and backed into a wall.

"Uh...Hi..." he said awkwardly.

"Don't be uncomfortable." She stood straight with only the hint of a smile. He couldn't tell if it was lascivious or not. "I'm here to work. Plasma injectors? We've got to secure penetration!" She smiled broadly and walked past him.

"Oh… damn." He looked up at the ceiling. Barclay felt as though he couldn't take it. An affair. With her? Impossible. He wondered why he wanted to resist, fear squeezing his heart like the fantasy of her squeezing a lower organ. The audacious idea flushed him and snapped his attention. He turned and followed silently behind her. But she had only said she thought he was adorable. And she'd been drinking, too! Why did his imagination have to run away with him so easily? Why did he have to headcanon real life?

He froze for a second as the doors slid open and tall, muscular Lem charged into the room. He looked into Barclay with sharp eyes. "Where is she?" His voice was cold.

Barclay opened his mouth, but couldn't speak. He simply looked to his right, pointing with an arrested expression. Lem stomped passed him and around the engines.

"Lellee," he called out. Barclay peered around, watching the scene.

"Dell? What is it?" She stood over an injector.

"I got your message. Why didn't you wait for me to get back?" He was clearly flooded with emotion, heaving slightly.

"Calm yourself, Dell." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Everything's fine."

"Oh no. I'm worried..." He dropped his head. She sighed and touched his ear. Barclay felt a surge of jealousy, shooting angry thoughts at the handsome Partian with whom he could not compete. But then he remembered the Doctor. Perhaps... He shook the thought away. Sull's warmth for him was from then on only a fantasy.

"I will be fine. I assure you I will take great care in this matter..." Barclay was puzzled. What was there to worry about? He heard Lem sniffle and saw him shudder. He was wrapped up slowly by the Chancellor's arms and he sobbed twice, finally relaxing into her comfort, his head resting on her shoulder and his arms wrapped around her waist. Her face was soft.

"Pe-lt len, mel-nen," she cooed, stroking the back of his head. Barclay furrowed his brow and turned away. He waited, having nothing to do until he could approach the plasma injectors.

After a few minutes Lem strolled out of Engineering. All was quiet.

"You can come out now," a sweet voice slid through Barclay's ears. He coughed a bit and turned, setting to work immediately without looking at her.

He waited tensely for her to say something, feeling her eyes on him. But she didn't. She was still and relaxed. So he focused on the repairs, the adjustments, the solutions. Before he knew it three hours had passed.

"Do you get a break?" Sull's broke through his focus. He realized he'd finished.

"I––uh... I guess so..." He finally looked at her and smiled.

"I was going to invite you to lunch with Geordi and myself, but it seems like you're still uncomfortable around me. Should I leave you be?" Her face was Stoic.

He took a deep breath, faced with the very direct question. He maintained his focus on her face with great effort. "I don't know..." This truth perplexed him.

"That would make me nervous." She smiled.

"I respect you very much." He cleared his throat, not knowing where the words had come from.

"I'm pleased..." She stepped closer.

"I am... just… an awkward sort of person..."

"Really?" Her face did not move.

"I don't know." He giggled nervously.

She seemed puzzled, but then flushed with epiphany. "Are you concerned that I'm going to proposition you?" The blood drained from his face.

She smiled gently. "I haven't had a friendship or an affair with a human in a very long time. I forget the ways of some of you. I'm sorry if I've put you in an awkward humor. I..." She paused and seemed to be holding back something. Then she said, "We... Partians are used to flirting and being very up front. We forget... we forget that some are less direct..."

"Passive..." He looked up.

"Indeed..." When he looked back down she was looking at his chest. She ran a comforting hand thoughtlessly up his arm. She stopped suddenly. "I apologize." She stepped back and turned, likely intending to finish work.

In that moment Barclay panicked. Cyrano filled his lungs and the terror of future regret chilled his brain and heated his blood. Absolutely uncharacteristically he grabbed her arm. With a swift movement she was wrapped into him, her puffy hot lips parted against his.

He felt her relax immediately, accepting him. His awareness of his actions was delayed, but now he was so thankful. Yet so horrified. When she slid her tongue into his mouth she moaned. He shivered. He kissed her. Then he pulled away.

Sull's eyebrows wiggled. "Unexpected..." She smiled, still held by his hands.

Barclay opened his mouth to speak, but finally, characteristically, found no words. Then he let go of her.

"That was a very romantic gesture," she said.

Barclay knew he could go no further with this as his knees shook with nerves of suicide. But, he felt strangely inflated by the moment. He knew Partians were not awkward about sharing a passionate kiss, or affair, without the expectation of monogamy or romantic love. She was out of his reach, and he knew that he wanted someone to hold every night.

"I hope you're not upset," he said, knowing she wasn't. "I suppose I didn't want to miss my chance."

"That's adorable." She smiled. "I'm moved." Then she smirked. "Here's hoping nobody saw that." His eyes rounded. "Yes, I can see that a witness would spell your imminent death. I've never met anyone in danger of terminal embarrassment. I'm never around nervous people, and I didn't realize it could be so charming. I hope we can be friends."

They laughed together, Barclay strangely lacking mortification. He was probably too tired. He agreed to the terms and turned back to repairs.


	8. Chapter 8

Counselor Troi walked along the corridor in search of dinner. It had been a long day of tense sessions. Yet another delay had worked her most frazzled patients to tears and the rest of them to brooding, wired silence. She assured them it wouldn't take long, and encouraged them to be social, especially with the Chancellor and Senator aboard. The two new additions could be a good method of siphoning off the excess energy in the stuffy ship. They didn't call Partia "_The Party Planet_" for nothing.

Troi approached the doors of Ten Forward and paused as they opened. She walked in and took in the rather substantial crowd. There were still tables available, however. Most people were gathered around the bar, mingling.

Much to her surprise she saw Data at the bar. And moreover, he wasn't alone. He stood talking to Chancellor Sull, who reminded Troi of a fairy. She was in a gauzy green dress that gathered at the waist and floated around her knees. The sleeves moved like wings.

Troi watched them for a few moments. She felt a wash of emotions from the Chancellor. She was always a very pleasant presence for the Counselor. Sull felt very deeply, vividly, but her own self-awareness allowed them safe passage, culminating in a state of relaxation Troi resolved was very likely uniquely Partian. Dell was nearly identical, though colored by the passion he felt toward Beverly. Troi smiled to think of her friend enjoying his attention.

Now her attention turned back toward the pair she intended to join. But as she walked, she was struck by something different, something odd. Data seemed especially interested in their conversation, yet his expression was very open, his brows high. This was an expression Troi considered to mean _agreeable reflection_. Then Troi shifted her senses to Lellee, who was still very relaxed, and there she found the source of the emotional disturbance. She was rather… captivated with Data. She was a cool mixture of affection, admiration, incredulity, and desire.

Troi actually gasped at this realization. For Lellee's emotional state did not inform Troi that Lellee had developed an _attraction_ to Data. Rather, it announced quite clearly that she and Data had already made love.

_"When could that have happened?" _the Counselor wondered. She was briefed by the Captain on everything to do with the Alldem Front, so she knew that the Chancellor had returned to her quarters by about 0200 hours.

At 0900 Data had taken his station with agreeable reflection. Then during the briefing he was unusually still. Data was such a fantastic puzzle for Troi. She valued his friendship more than she could express. They were at complete odds. He claimed not to have feelings. But she had always felt, though had not found a good way to explain it to Data; that he did feel in his own way… That his feelings are simply unlike any other beings' that have been found thus far.

So, she had undertaken his mystery. She wanted to feel something from Data. Aside from his Q-induced fit of laughter, she had never felt anything remotely humanoid about his emotional state. She was proud at this point to recognize his presence, or rather, lack thereof. In a room full of humanoids, she could close her eyes and pick out everyone she knew one by one. She could pick out Data by the emotional hole somewhere in the room.

So now Troi walked over slowly, trying not to disrupt them, but unable to make an escape and go unnoticed. She read Lellee while watching Data's face. For a moment he made _Spot's Face_, which describes how Data most often looked at his pet cat while they played together. Two _classically puzzled_ looks surrounded an eager statement at which Lellee laughed gleefully. Then she leaned forward and whispered something to him with all the air of mischief.

Data twitched his head and smiled. Troi was amazed that Lellee had gently placed her hand on his forearm. She stepped closer to him and said a few more things in a more casual mood. Lellee felt regret. She had to go, but she very much wanted to stay. Data said goodbye and watched her leave, standing up straighter when he noticed Troi.

Sull greeted Troi affectionately, but briefly. "Deanna, it's lovely to see you. I promised to visit Dell before I go to Engineering, so I must insist you have fun here for me." Troi laughed and assured her before the Chancellor floated out of the room.

Several gazes at the bar lingered on the doors through which she had disappeared. But Data was now very focused on Counselor Troi. And behind him wandered up La Forge. Troi smiled. They both seemed to be focused on her.

"Good evening, Counselor," Data said. Geordi stopped behind him.

"Hi Data. Geordi." She looked between them. There was an awkward moment. But she knew what they wanted. "So, which one of you is going to tell me what you're after?" She smiled again.

Then Geordi laughed. "Okay, Counselor, let's get a table. I think you are going to be interested in this."

She blinked. Geordi was bursting with curiosity. He'd been given a clue from Data and he almost couldn't believe what he suspected. "All right," she said, and the two led her to a corner table in front of a window.

They sat, Data to her right and Geordi to her left. Geordi leaned forward and interlaced his fingers. "Okay, Data." Data looked between the two of them.

"Geordi, is my inquiry inappropriate?" He furrowed his brow. Troi lifted hers. He could be very perceptive at odd times. Geordi's incredulity was practically dripping off of him. Of course even an android sensed that this may be _too much information_.

There was no such thing for Deanna Troi.

"Data," she intercepted. "Do you have something you want to talk to me about?"

Data lost all appearance of consternation. He also leaned forward and folded his hands. "Counselor, I would like to discuss an experience I had recently. I have asked Geordi if he would attend so as to diagnose any _technical_ malfunctions."

"And what do you need me for?" She sort of knew. She could barely contain her glee.

"The experience has been difficult to process. I have been grateful to count on your good advice for matters more esoteric and philosophical."

"Ah, then tell us about this experience, Data." She was the last to place her hands on the table.

Data paused and looked between them. Then he lifted his eyebrows and began.

"Early this morning Chancellor Sull invited me to her quarters. She confided in me, so I cannot further explain why I accepted the invitation. However, during our exchange she presented a concept to me that I had considered but rejected: That I do not actually lack emotion. That I have, essentially, _android_ emotion."

They were silent. Finally Troi spoke. "Data, that is something I have also considered. But it does not mean that you should stop trying to understand human emotion."

"I agree. The Chancellor said as much herself."

Troi smiled. "Well, then I don't know what more I can say about that without sessions."

"That is not the entirety of the experience. I wish to include that exchange because it may have influenced the anomalies."

"Anomalies?" She looked to Geordi, who now looked concerned and a little embarrassed.

"Chancellor Sull and I were intimate." He said frankly. "She propositioned me and I accepted."

Troi nodded. She felt her face flush. She could see Geordi put the back of his hand against his mouth to keep from giggling.

"I have applied my sexuality programming before, but this experience was unique and much more difficult to process. The first anomaly is that I produced an erection without consciously executing the command."

Troi blinked. Geordi said, "You mean it just _happened?_" He looked incredulous.

Data turned and said, "She propositioned me. I considered the idea before I agreed. I processed that I would have to execute certain commands in order to achieve an erection to penetrate her. It would not have been unusual if that had been the moment when I responded. Rather, it happened when I visualized the act of penetrating her."

Troi took a deep breath. Geordi was not breathing. Then they looked at each other. It was difficult to work through the fog of shock and intrigue and glee, but they eventually agreed that they were at a loss as to the cause.

"I don't know, Data," Geordi said. "I just…" He shook his head. "I think I need more time to think about it. Is that it?"

"During our encounter my processes were interrupted twice. The first lasted 0.015 seconds, during which I emitted a soft vocalization. The second lasted for 0.2 seconds."

"Whoa," Geordi said. "0.2 seconds? What happened?"

"I had just penetrated her," Data said with a still face.

Troi gasped. She couldn't help it. It was out there. Data turned to look at her. "Counselor, is something wrong?" He looked concerned.

"No, Data. I suppose I am just surprised."

"Surprised?" He looked puzzled.

"I did not expect this conversation when I walked into Ten Forward. So please forgive me for reacting. I am very happy that you were with Lellee. It seems like the experience had a profound effect you."

"It did, Counselor. I just wish to understand how and why."

Troi chewed her lip. Then she leaned forward. She might as well give him everything she had. "Data, what preceded the first interruption, where you made a sound?"

"She squeezed my phallus."

"What did the vocalization sound like?"

"_Ah_," he said. Geordi sucked in breath this time, but Data didn't look away.

"That sounds like an exclamation of pleasure, Data. And the disruption when you penetrated her also implies pleasure."

"But, Counselor, you are aware that I am not capable of pleasure."

"But you also referenced a theory put forth by a Partian intellectual, with which I find legitimacy, that you could very well experience _android_ pleasure."

"It was very intriguing," he said softly, looking at the table. He seemed strangely innocent in that moment. Almost lost in thought.

"Data, did you run a diagnostic… after?" Geordi asked.

"I ran three separate diagnostics. I have also reviewed my record of the event. There appears to have been no actual malfunction."

"Can you describe the experience at the moment of the disruption?" Troi posed.

"It was...an unexpected...nothingness."

"Nothingness? Like you blacked out?" Geordi asked.

"It was as if I experienced a blackout, but I have no memory loss."

"I don't understand," said Geordi.

"Neither do I," replied Data. "I cannot help but wonder if the anomaly is Chancellor Sull herself."

"That could be. Have you had many sexual experiences, Data?" Troi asked, now strangely comfortable.

"I have had two sexual experiences prior to that which I had with the Chancellor."

"And did you experience anything like these incidents in the other two experiences?"

Data blinked. "They were each complicated. But I did not experience process interruptions or semi-spontaneous erections."

The three of them sat quietly for a moment. "What kind of relationship will you have with the Chancellor, if I may ask?" Troi leaned forward.

"Do you want me to go, Data?" Geordi asked, gently.

"No Geordi. Your input has been invaluable. And I do not believe the Chancellor would be offended at my having confided in the both of you."

Geordi sat. Data began, "She said she felt great affection for me and hoped that I would exchange communiques with her in the future. I agreed. I am looking forward to learning more about Partian philosophy from her. I also look forward to making love with her again, a sentiment she shares."

"Look forward to?" Troi smirked.

"Regardless of the hypothesis as to the anomalies, there needs to be further research. I also wish to improve my performance abilities and she is enthusiastic."

At that Troi and Geordi finally laughed. They patted Data's arms as he looked concerned and assured him they were simply happy for him.

But Troi knew it wasn't that simple. Geordi was happy for Data, but he was a little envious, too. She considered reminding him that Partians don't believe in jealousy, but he would probably find that out for himself when he encountered the Chancellor in Engineering.


	9. Chapter 9

Geordi arrived in Engineering via the turbolift at 1730 hours. He felt conflicting emotions about his plan to show the Chancellor around the engines. He had been exceptionally excited about it. He had studied her work as a cadet and throughout his career. She was something of a cult personality and inspired a certain fandom among young Engineers. He could think of several old classmates who would be green with jealousy over how much time he'd get to spend with her.

One conflict with the excitement was that she'd turned out to be a Woman. He didn't think his friends would've been prepared for that either. In her gorgeous frock at the party he couldn't avoid noticing that she had a beautiful body and a glowing face. Getting drunk with her had cemented this fact in his mind. He felt a great pleasure in his attraction to her, but also a little guilt. He did not want to disrespect someone for whom he had very great respect.

Add to that the sudden revelation that she'd made passionate love to his best friend and his head was spinning. He had to admit that he hoped, in a small secret way, that she'd be interested in him. It was a great fantasy: Chancellor Lellee Sull has an affair with the Chief Engineer of the Enterprise.

But it was a fantasy.

Geordi stood around the comm island when the turbolift doors opened and Sull entered, still wearing her gauzy green dress. She'd taken her hair down.

But it was a fantasy…

"Good evening, Geordi," she said, walking up to him and offering him her hand. He took it in the Partian style and smiled awkwardly. She noticed.

"Hi...Lellee," he said, nearly saying Chancellor.

"It's really very sweet of you to show me around when you're off duty," she said, letting go of his hand.

"I can't think of anything else I'd rather do!" he said with a grin, hoping it didn't seem pathetic.

Sull laughed quietly. The Enterprise seemed to have a surplus of adorable men. "_Vacation is what you make it_," she thought to herself.

"You know," she began, "I really love the open plan of the Engineering section. It just feels more fluid and efficient."

Geordi smiled as she took his arm. "I agree. Where should we start first?"

"She's your baby; so lead on, Chief." Sull gestured her hand forward and he led her directly toward the Warp Core.

Two hours later they returned to the island where they started. "He really wandered around stealing things?" she asked with a giggle.

"He sure did. It's a lucky thing Captain Picard didn't take Rasmussen's presence too seriously or we might not have been able to execute my plan." Geordi stopped at the island and faced Lellee.

"Of course he followed your plan, Geordi. It was brilliant." She beamed.

He laughed and said "It worked" with a shrug. Then he looked up and chuckled. "But really, he had no chance. He had the nerve to try and kidnap Data."

"Welcome to the 24th Century," Lellee laughed and leaned on the island, crossing her arms.

Geordi's thoughts now dwelled on Data. He couldn't forget what he'd shared just hours before. This woman had made an impression on an android. He didn't realize he was staring until she looked back at him.

"What?" she asked, noting his stillness.

Geordi took in a deep breath. He had no evasive answer. So he just shrugged. "That… was a weird one."

"It's lucky Rasmussen was a fool. It would've been a great loss if he'd taken or hurt Data." She uncrossed her arms and sighed.

Geordi giggled. "Yeah. I would miss him, definitely."

"You are close friends?" She smiled.

Geordi paused a moment with his mouth open. "Yeah… he nodded. As much as one can be close friends with an android, I guess."

"You mean that he has no feelings for you?" She tilted her head.

"Well I guess I'm wrong about that, aren't I?" he said and then nearly choked and kicked himself.

Lellee raised her eyebrows. "Data confided in you about my theory?"

Geordi nodded and turned away slightly. "It's interesting," he said.

"Data told you about last night, didn't he?" She stared right into his VISOR.

"Yes…" he admitted. "I'm sorry. He just…"

"You're Chief Engineer and probably his best friend," she replied. "Of course he told you. I think he should speak to Deanna as well."

"He did," Geordi replied reflexively. "He spoke to us both at the same time."

"Oh, that's good. It seems he experienced something unusual during our affair," she said casually.

Geordi nearly choked. Then he couldn't control himself. "I kind of can't believe it…"

"Why not?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

"I…" he didn't know how to answer in a respectful way. "Well… I'm sorry if it sounds crass… but… It's impressive to think you can _turn on_ an android."

Sull threw back her head and laughed. "Gracious, Geordi, that's a fantastic compliment." Geordi laughed too. Then he slipped into a strangely pensive position. "What is it?" Lellee asked him. He looked at her and didn't know what to say. "I just realized something…" she said quietly.

"What?" Geordi said, surprised.

"I'm stuck on this ship. I was mourning the loss of my vacation. But I realized something." She stepped forward, closer to him. "Vacation is what you make it." She lifted her eyebrows and smirked.

Geordi held his breath. He couldn't believe what he had inferred from that statement. So he didn't move. Lellee lifted an eyebrow.

"I scared you off, didn't I?" She leaned back.

"Scared me off?" he replied. "So… you mean what I thought you meant…" He closed his mouth tight.

"My place?" she asked.

Geordi walked into Chancellor Sull's quarters with a light head. She walked ahead of him and he noticed the room was rather cold. He shivered.

"Do you want me to turn up the heat?" she asked, standing at the foot of the bed. He still remained near the doors.

Then he laughed. It was adorable. "This is surreal…" he put out his hands.

"We can just chat, if you'd prefer. I programmed some pleasant _soft_ drinks into the replicator." She gestured toward the device. Geordi squeezed his hands into fists. She walked toward him. "Though, I will admit…a certain disappointment if I am to be denied the chance to touch you."

He could smell her strange light perfume. "You are an amazing woman," he whispered. This time she stepped into his arms. He held his hands nearly touching her shoulders. "If you're serious… I don't think I can hold back…"

"Perfect," she whispered and pressed her lips against his. His hands found her shoulders and he squeezed. His mouth was cool and tender. He teased her lips with his tongue and teeth. His hands and the skin of his neck were soft and electrified by the cool air in the room.

Geordi groaned when she slid her hands under his uniform jacket. They were hot and smooth and nimble. She massaged the stiff muscles in his back and then unzipped his uniform. He nearly stumbled kicking off his boots and socks.

He untied her dress and let it flutter to the ground. He gasped at her hard nipples and the strangely bony and soft curves of her feminine body. They tried to walk toward the bed and fell into it.

Sull rolled him over and kissed her way down his neck, his torso, and his hips. He hissed in pleasure and looked down just in time to see her run her tongue along his powerful erection. He moaned loudly and his legs twitched. She licked and kissed and sucked playfully until he felt his head was going to explode. She giggled and he groaned.

"You're killing me…" Geordi whispered. And suddenly they were face to face. She looked down on him with a dangerous smirk and ran her hands up his chest.

She pressed her knees into his hips and sat up. He squeezed her backside as she straddled him. "Oh my god…" he said, and she slid herself onto him. She squeezed him and lifted, sliding slowly off of his slick cock. He moaned louder when she descended.

Sull kept the pace agonizingly slow. He squeezed her hips and mumbled and moaned as she worked him.

Suddenly he jerked and said, "Lellee, I can't hold back." She laughed, thinking he was going to come.

But suddenly she was through the air and flat on her back. He loomed over her, grabbed her hips, and squeezed into her. She mewled as he ground against her clitoris.

"You are fucking incredible," Geordi said. "I could pound you for hours." Then he grunted and pumped into her. He thrust hard and slow, her cries lifting into the air.

"Is that good?" he whispered. She made an affirmative groan and he picked up speed. "Yes. God. Yes…" he hissed in her ear. Then he grunted and growled. He pulled away suddenly. She gasped and looked startled. Geordi reached his right hand for the VISOR and very slowly pulled it away from his face.

"Sorry," he whispered. His eyes were closed. He sat the VISOR above her head on the bed and then fell on her mouth, where he probed her with his tongue and began grinding again. Incredibly grueling minutes passed.

She was dizzy and overwhelmed, suddenly begging, "Geordi, please. Pound me, Geordi. Fuck me hard, please… please."

Geordi groaned raggedly and chuckled as he honored her pleas. He thrust feverishly, their bodies slapping together, their moans and whines mingling into a cacophony. He drilled her with a fury he didn't know he had. His thickness tormented her and when he began to chant "Yes!" to every-quickening thrusts, her eyes rolled back and she cried until her voice cracked under the pressure of her explosive orgasm. The violent waves of pleasure rolled over her. Her pleasure was amplified at his grunts, groans, spasms, and drawn-out howl of "Lellee!" as he came powerfully inside her.

A full minute passed as they trembled and whimpered and ground against each other. Geordi nuzzled her neck, unaware of anything but the pulsing satisfaction he felt in every part of his body. After that minute he reveled in how his cock felt, sheathed and wet.

She shuddered and sighed, contracting around him until he groaned with fresh volume and pulled out. Then he chuckled with ragged happiness. With great effort he pulled himself onto his elbows. He reached above her and retrieved his VISOR, which he replaced.

"I'm sorry…" he said, suddenly feeling regretful.

"What?" she asked, squinting through the fog of ecstasy.

"I took off my VISOR," he whispered back.

"Fuck me like that again and I'll take it off for you," she whispered with a giggle as she wrapped her hand around his backside and squeezed.

He laughed clearly and then groaned with arousal. "I don't know…" he whispered.

"Yes you do…" She lifted off the bed and slid her tongue into his mouth. He moaned and unconsciously thrust into her again. They cried out together.

An hour later she collapsed on top of him and tangled her legs in his, her head resting over his pounding heart.

"I can't believe it…" he whispered.

"What?" she asked and looked up at him.

"That just happened…" He smirked.

"As soon as I can move my legs, it'll happen again," she said, also smirking.

He burst out with laughter. "I think I need water and rations or we may have to move to a bio bed in sickbay."


	10. Chapter 10

After a light breakfast in bed, Geordi returned to his quarters to change for duty. Chancellor Sull dressed in linen lilac pants and a white crochet tunic that opened in a V down the middle of her chest. It was a little daring, but it had sleeves. She sat down to catch up on reports and articles.

Geordi imagined the hiss of the turbolift doors as the withdrawing of stage curtains. He practically burst into Engineering, excited about the last bit of work to do before getting aboard the space station the next morning.

He glanced to his left and saw Barclay at the island ten minutes early.

"Hey, Reg," Geordi said with a bright smile. Barclay glanced up and blinked at his commanding officer's jubilant mood.

"Good morning, Commander," he said quietly.

"We've just got to tackle the injector coils and we should be good to go!" He clapped his hands and walked toward the Warp Core.

"Commander, you seem in good spirits…" Reg offered as they stood in Geordi's office, organizing their materials and waiting for staff to arrive.

Geordi laughed while looking at a P.A.D.D. "Yeah, I suppose so…"

"It was only yesterday you said you wished you could go to sleep and wake up a week from now…" Barclay joked. Geordi laughed again.

"That's true. I guess I just had a nice night and feel a little rejuvenated." He bit his lip and looked away from Barclay. The staff had begun to arrive and Geordi was issuing assignments. Barclay knew what to do, so his thoughts wandered toward La Forge.

He had shown the Chancellor around the Engines the night before. Barclay had still been in Engineering. He hated himself for eavesdropping, but he seemed incapable of resisting. They didn't talk about the engines as much as he would have thought. Sull seemed more interested in the stories Geordi could tell her of his adventures on the Enterprise and even a few rather personal anecdotes that Barclay had managed to pull away from, out of respect for his commanding officer. Also, he had no more reason to be in Engineering. He'd been off duty for half an hour when they arrived.

Geordi left his office with Barclay trailing behind him. Reg felt envious that La Forge had gotten to spend some time with the Chancellor. He wondered how long their evening had lasted. Barclay had enjoyed her company at the party and wished he were a more confident man to inspire her interest. The thought of _the kiss_ made his bottom lip tingle. Then Geordi took one step on the ladder in front of him and winced.

"Are you alright, Commander?" Barclay asked.

"Yeah, thanks," he said as he grunted his way up the ladder. "Just a bit sore today, I guess."

Reg already had a wild imagination, so the explosion in his brain at these words was instantaneous. He felt dizzy. Then he felt stupid. When Geordi looked down at him he pulled his mouth up in a quizzical look.

"Are _you_ alright, Reg?" He asked. Barclay's face was beet red.

"Yes… Fine… Thank you." Then he scurried off back to his duties. Geordi stretched out his arms and chuckled before he got to work.

After a big lunch, Chancellor Sull had finished with her reading for the day. She sat down to observe some communiques. She turned her attention to thinking ahead. She sent out several messages, the first of which were to her fathers. She still had no more information on the tense situation on the Partian moon, but it was suspiciously reckless, even for the Front.

Aside from the serious notes she sent, she was grateful to find that everyone had respected her desperate plea for a vacation and only sent messages of pleasure, and not business.

She had been receiving a flattering number of messages from one-time lovers who resided on Earth. She'd only made plans to meet a few of them during the first week or two, not intending this trip to be dominated by amours. But now they were all to be a little disappointed she would not be journeying to Earth at all. Perhaps if Partia was able to disable the Alldem Front with the blink of an eye, it would all work out and everyone would get laid.

But, yet again, vacation is what you make it. Two remarkable Starfleet officers in her bed within two days. This was some kind of new record for her. She reminded herself to only catch rides from starships overdue for leave.

She wondered if her two shockingly-easy adventures suggested a pattern. She greatly admired and respected all of the senior officers and many of the regular crew. This was a ship with impressive individuals who also happened to be rather enticing.

She contemplated her opportunities. She greatly esteemed Worf, but he reminded her too much of Khitomer and his grandfather. Dell had already fallen hard and fast for Dr. Crusher, and Troi and Riker seemed to have a bond that she did not want to disrupt. They also didn't seem the type to eagerly invite a third to a party of two.

That left one person… She threw her head back and laughed. Captain Jean-Luc Picard was the most controlled man she'd ever met. But beneath it she could feel a passion that heated his blood to Partian temperatures. The first time she'd taken his arm it was flexed and tense. He had relaxed some the evening he'd walked her to her quarters. But that seemed more like fatigue than trust.

She flushed to think on how she'd lusted after him years ago when an Admiral friend of hers forwarded along his picture and the news that he was the first freshman to win the Starfleet Academy Marathon. He was so young she felt positively sinful. But, when you're seven hundred years old, almost everyone makes you feel like an old pervert.

He wasn't a cadet now. He was a highly accomplished and highly decorated Captain. One of the best. She wondered if he knew that there was a relatively secret message board for those whose hearts pitter pat for the French Hero with the resonating voice. If pressed, she would have admitted posting there under a pseudonym.

"Girls and boys, eat your hearts out," she thought. He was trapped aboard just as she was. They were scheduled to have tea at 1400 hours. She decided not to change her clothes. But she did take her hair down.

Right on time, the door chimed. "Come in," the Captain replied. Chancellor Sull walked into his room with a little flutter of her crochet sleeves.

He was standing over the table, just setting down a tea pot. He walked over to her and offered her his hand, which she took in the Partian style. Something in her eyes twinkled and he had to resist squinting.

He was surprised to find her black hair rather wild and curly. He'd only seen it thoughtfully braided and pinned up, in person and in pictures. She'd always presented a neat and tidy front. Then he noticed that she was wearing beaded sandals. Her toenails were painted white.

"Welcome. Thank you for coming," he said, getting a hold of himself. He gestured for her to sit down opposite him.

"I'm very pleased you invited me!" she said, eying the scones and small sandwiches. "This looks wonderful."

"Sugar?" he asked. She nodded and he added sugar and cream to her tea. She gave it a silent stir, sipped, and smiled graciously. He poured a cup for himself, left it black, and drank.

"Have you always preferred your tea black?" she asked.

He lifted his eyebrows. "Yes," he replied. "My grandmother used to make it very strong. I have fond memories associated with black tea, I suppose."

"That's lovely," she replied, tilting her head to the side. He met her eyes and he seemed perfectly at ease in her presence. This was a comfort. She was getting a little tired of everyone being afraid of her. But then, of course Captain Jean-Luc Picard wouldn't be afraid of something as innocent as her.

"I first had tea like this in Scotland about eighty years ago. It was pleasant, but the company wasn't nearly as fine." She batted her eyelashes.

He smiled wryly. "You flatter me, Chancellor." His breath hitched, flashing on the Counselor's advice.

But she simply answered, "Hardly. You'll know when I flatter you." She wrinkled her nose and took a sip. After feasting on his table and several of his exciting anecdotes, she leaned back into the couch and surveyed his room.

"Do you prefer reading paper books or is that for display?" She pointed to the volume on his desk.

"I rather prefer physical books," he replied, a little elated. "It fills me with a sense of history… a sense of reality…"

"What's the oldest volume you own?" she asked.

He smirked and stood up. He walked to a shelf from which he removed a box. He tapped a key and it compressed open. He sat next to her and offered her the chance to look at the contents.

It was an obviously very old printing of _A Christmas Carol_, by Charles Dickens. "Gracious!" she said, touching her fingers to her lips. "Is this…?"

"A first edition." He beamed. "It's more than five hundred years old…" He sat back and stared at it. Then he looked up, "I read it once. Cover to cover." He looked back down. "I somehow felt like I was there. My quarters were no longer aboard this ship. They were in townhouse in the heart of London. People were all around me in carriages and on horseback. And Ebenezer Scrooge was casting a dark shadow on my window…" His expression was softly, giddy, and far away.

Sull was practically motionless. She felt oppressed by the heat in the room. It seemed to waft off of his body. His strong chin, sharp smile, and chiseled body were taunting her through literature. She sat down the tea cup. That pulled him from his meditation and he looked at her.

"Forgive my distraction," he said, locking up the book again.

"It was wonderful. Thank you for sharing it with me…" He smiled and stood up to return the book to the safety of its shelf.

"I try not to over-collect things, but I had to have it. I had to trade three other volumes for it." he admitted as he sat down again.

"I couldn't have resisted it either. You may have to place security on your room lest a madness take me and I try to steal it." She giggled and he laughed.

But the laugh was only half felt. There was something in her expression that puzzled him. So he said, "Perhaps I should keep it in a bigger safe."

"Good thought," she said. "Then I'll still be able to visit your quarters." She lifted her eyebrow roguishly for an instant and then took a sip of her tea.

Captain Picard meditated on this statement for a moment. He had a wealth of questions he wanted to ask her about her travels, but he wasn't sure where to start.

"Tell me more about your favorite literature," she said as he pondered. He took in a breath and lifted his eyebrows. Then he smiled, feeling a bit sheepish.

"I've never been much of an actor, but I have always loved the works of Shakespeare…"

More than two hours had passed as they discussed the plays they both knew and Picard explained several with which Sull was unfamiliar. His reading from _The Tempest_ was most pleasurable and she blushed on more than one occasion as she coaxed him to read a few rather racy sonnets.

After they settled down from a burst of laughter Captain Picard realized they'd been out of tea for nearly half an hour. "Would you like more tea, Chancellor?"

"Yes, thank you, Captain." He stood up and went to the replicator. Then he heard her whisper and he turned. She said forcefully:

_O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;_

_Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,_

_For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,_

_For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning._

He smiled and felt himself blush. "So…" he replied with a grin. "_That's_ Partian flattery, is it?"

Sull giggled. "It fits you so well. Especially now."

"Especially now?" he asked as he sat down with a fresh pot of tea. Then he poured.

"On your way home, ever delayed by adventure and glory. Legendary adventures are always scarier than they seem in songs, but the bouquets and wreaths are beautiful, and the people love you."

"Thank you, Chancellor," he said awkwardly as he took a sip. "I'm sorry that your holiday was delayed because of this odd business…" Then he kicked himself for raining on the parade, as it were.

But she only chuckled. "I'm not worried. I am very good at finding diversions. I find people to visit and in your case, poems of great relevance."

"That's an impressive skill. I don't know if I would be as relaxed in your position. And I'm not sure I could conjure a true holiday aboard this ship." He took another sip. She left her tea untouched.

"With the right words anything is possible." She stretched her arm along the back of the couch, her fingers mere inches from his shoulder.

He sat his tea down. This was puzzling. "Anything is possible?"

"Yes. I bet I could achieve any desire right now with the right phrase…"

Her eyes were genuinely wild then. Picard felt his mouth go dry, but he did not want to refill his tea cup. This was a surreal situation. He felt as if she were flirting with him. But he felt a certain playful opposition to her game. He would challenge her.

"I'll take that bet."

"Really?"

"Yes. With a phrase," he confirmed.

"What are the stakes?"

He furrowed his brow, "A bottle of Partian watla to a bottle of Chateau Picard."

"Done!" she agreed and they shook hands like humans.

"Now, what do you want?" he asked.

"No, no. Just a phrase." She scooted closer and leaned toward his ear. And she whispered, "_Come woo me, woo me, for I am in a holiday humour and like enough to consent_."


	11. Chapter 11

Picard blinked and for a moment lamented the bottle of wine he'd have to give her. Then he came to his senses at the sensation of her hot hand on his. He looked down as she ran her fingers along his wrist.

He looked into her face and her expression was patient, but eager. He had the strange feeling that she was about to fling herself at him. He felt dizzy for a moment and then regained himself.

"I...Chancellor," he began.

"Have I won?" she whispered, shifting closer and closing her fingers around his. She lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed the back of it, holding it in the Partian style.

Picard did not respond. She still looked rather young. Then he remembered feeling weak in her presence the night she arrived and a shade of embarrassment fell across his face.

"Captain Picard," she whispered as she leaned her mouth close to his ear. "Let's share the bottle when we come up for air…"

He sucked in a deep breath. Her lips tickled his neck and he realized she was kissing him. He closed his eyes and shivered at her hot skin.

"This is not what I had planned," he whispered back. He seemed to run his hands up her arms unconsciously.

"That's how the best adventures start, Captain." She giggled and pulled away from his neck to look into his face. "And how could I have resisted you?"

He nearly laughed, but she silenced him with a kiss. He reciprocated reflexively, sliding his hand along her jaw to tangle in her hair. It was soft and warm.

Sull moaned softly in elation. His hands were strong; his caresses were delicate, gentle, but needy. He was restraining himself. She would allow that for now. His face was strangely relaxed, as if his attention were adhered to the act of kissing her warm and soft lips. He groaned as her tongue slid into his mouth more urgently.

Then she pulled her face away, her body draped over his. She gripped the collar of his uniform and said, "Let me take it off…"

He coughed with his mouth tight shut and he blinked rapidly. Then he nodded and stood, grabbing her by the elbows and taking her with him. It was a sweeping gesture, with a romance Lellee had not expected in this Captain.

He pressed his right hand on the small of her back and slid his left into her hair again. He'd seemingly forgotten her request for he bent her back and kissed her with the dedication of a master musician. He stroked her like a harp.

She let out a melodious moan and gripped his collar again. She pulled away "If I hadn't retired I'd order this thing off of you," she purred. Then she reached around him to unzip his jacket. She pulled it away and dropped it to the floor. He returned to kissing her, squeezing her in his arms.

"Lellee…" he whispered as he kissed her neck. She felt her knees tremble and whimpered. He slid his hand under the back of her tunic and flushed with the pleasure of her skin and the undulations of her spine.

He pulled the garment over her head and ran his hands over her nipples before she began to attack his trousers. After a few moments of elegant undressing, they were pressed together at the foot of the Captain's bed.

Picard slid his hands around her backside and tossed her onto the duvet. She yelped with surprise and he slid in beside her. An eternity seemed like minutes as they kissed and touched each other. He was lean and beautiful, as if carved out of marble. She shivered at the cool softness of his skin. She trembled when she could no longer resist and slid her hand along his thigh and over his smooth and pulsing erection.

He grunted with pleasure and shook his head imperceptibly. Then he pulled away from her mouth and turned his attention to her nipples. He bit and licked and kissed them as if in a delirium. He barely heard her moans and gasps as he bit a path down her body until he could nuzzle his face into her wet quim.

Lellee shuddered and twitched. His mouth was cool, but firm. He tasted and teased her with methodical patience. He slid the flat of his tongue along her lips and clitoris as if reveling in honey.

Lellee giggled and gasped at his attention. His face was still relaxed with pleasure and infatuation. He moaned periodically, which resonated deep inside of her. Lellee clenched and twitched and moaned with need.

She was practically quaking with desire, the urgent desperation to be filled.

"Oh my Captain…" she moaned. She could form no other thoughts, no other words to beg.

He actually laughed deeply and quietly, the vibrations tormenting her further. But aside from that, he made no reaction. He instead continued to tantalize her and himself by licking and kissing and sucking while she mewled and gripped the duvet under her.

When her cries began to keep a rhythm, rising higher and higher, he shifted imperceptibly, slowed his path along her clitoris, and slid a cool finger inside of her. She gasped, her back arching. He slid in another finger and she thrust into his face. He pressed her hips into the bed with his left hand to steady her. He shook his head gently, side to side, while he licked and stroked her.

Sull looked down to admire her maestro. She trembled, watching his still face, his swirling tongue, and the muscles of his arms tensing and flexing as he slid his fingers in and out of her. Her moaning had taken on a rhythm again and her head lolled to the side. When he started to moan in unison with her, her eyes rolled back. It amplified inside of her where his fingers slowly stroked. He continued to moan, his tongue quickening, his fingers rubbing firmly in more shallow depths. And then with a sudden burst in speed in his voice, tongue, and fingers she came; she burst back, arching, screaming, pulsing, and gushing.

She felt as if she'd been floating in the air and had just collapsed. She felt his gentle laugh inside of her still as he kept his lips pressed into her wet mound. "Lellee" he whispered into her.

"Jean-Luc…" she said, risking. She was still shaking and quaking with pleasure.

"Good god…" he whispered. And then she was shadowed. He knelt over her. His face was shining with sweat and her. He looked down at her hungrily. He no longer looked to be restrained. He looked wild. She trembled with anticipation.

He offered no other comment, but instead attacked her mouth with his, kissing her passionately and affectionately, as if they'd achieved something. Then he pulled up on his elbows and thrust into her with unexpected force. Her eyes flew open. He was thicker than she'd realized and he'd slowed immediately to allow her a moment to adjust. She squeezed her thighs around his hips and growled with satisfaction.

"You want to fuck me like a madman, don't you?" she said impishly as he stared down at her. His controlled relaxed face shifted and he smirked like the most charming rake she'd ever seen. He took a deep breath between tightly-closed teeth, and then opened his mouth to laugh softly.

"No…" he whispered, "I want to make love to you as only I can…" Then he pulled back and thrust into her again. She cried out in pleasure and in laughter. He was a delightful rogue. With a light smile he thrust upward to enter her and let her fall as he slid out. She moaned as he sheathed himself in her and sighed when he retreated. He tested her, explored her, and followed the same path in and out of her with so many variations of force and angle and depth that she could hardly keep her eyes focused on anything for more than a second.

When he began to moan along with her in earnest, she ached to feel him come inside of her. But suddenly he slid out of her. She cried out in distress, but then his hands found her backside and he rolled her over onto her belly. He slipped himself between her legs and thrust deeply into her, relishing how hot and wet she was.

She cried out once he filled her again, his hips pressed into her fleshy backside. He rested his weight on his left hand and coaxed her legs open wider with the right. Then he slid it along her curves to rest on her breast. He pinched her nipple and she whimpered.

"And now for the madman…" he whispered and thrust deep. He was no longer slow and methodical, but he was controlled in his deep, relentless pounding. His bed shook with the force. And her moans and screams met his. She felt impaled over and over again, giddy with the sensations and his virile grunts and moans of passion.

"Lellee…" he whispered. And then he let go of the reigns. He suddenly gripped her hips and pulled her to her knees. He slapped his hands onto her rear and gripped her. With an echoing "_Ooh!"_ from Lellee he thrust ferociously, his cock a runaway train as he pounded into her.

Her heart pounded nearly as hard and when it felt as if it would skip a beat, he said, "Come for me again, Lellee…" The growl that followed made her follow the command. She screamed as he fell forward to grab her breast and thrust deeply, filling her with every ounce of pleasure he had while she pulsed and dissolved into a giggling euphoria.

He collapsed next to her, moaning softly. She rolled over to tuck herself into his arm. He rested his hand on the curve of her hip.

"Not exactly a professional visit," he remarked with irony in his voice.

"Indeed. That was much less boring." She giggled.

He sighed. "I did not realize how much…" He trailed off. "That was wonderful," he finally said.

"Mmm, yes," she agreed and wiggled around until she could look him in the face. "I feel like I've just had a dream come true." She beamed.

He squinted. "Partian flattery," he said teasingly. Then he second guessed himself, remembering the Counselor's advice. So he softened. "I feel like we both won your bet."

"Yes, it does seem that way. Though I think we should save that wine until a little later." She rested on an elbow and let her fingers dance along his chest and clavicles. "There's so much more of you I have yet to taste…" she kissed his nipple and he chuckled.

"Think of the rumors…" he murmured sarcastically.

"No. I'd rather think of your cock." She slid her hand along it and gave it a gentle stroke. He groaned mischievously.

"Did you come here intending to seduce me, Chancellor?" he said in a serious tone with an un-serious face.

"I came here for tea, Captain," she said with a similar expression. "You are so attractive. How could I have resisted?"

He kissed her. "I'm glad you didn't…." He looked away. "I was wary of you…" he admitted.

"Wary?" She tilted her head.

"I think you gathered why in our last discussion the night you arrived…" He took a deep breath. "I also did not expect you, a Federation dignitary, to be made of pure sex."

Sull laughed and pulled him into her arms for more kisses. After a few minutes her skin was electrified and he was hard again. She climbed atop him and ground against him once he was buried deep inside her. She rocked and swirled her hips like a wild dancer. He groaned and cried out, flexing every muscle. And though he'd thought he'd last much longer after their first intensive lovemaking session as she continued to fuck him with such intensity he became light headed and announced, "You're going to make me come."

She responded by undulating slower, pinching his nipples, and saying, "Fill me…" He shouted something in French and nearly toppled her off of him as he thrust upward and came hard, the orgasm rolling over him like tempestuous waves. He collapsed backward and she fell forward on her hands.

"Come here," he whispered and sat up slightly to capture her nipple in his teeth. She whined as he rolled it around his tongue. He panted and trembled, his head fuzzy and elated.

Then he fell back onto the bed. She collapsed next to him and giggled, throwing her wrist across her forehead, her hair fanned out on the pillow.

Picard looked over at her, how she glistened with sweat. "Computer," he said. "Reduce temperature by five degrees."

"Ooh," she moaned. "Thank you."

"Just looking at you makes me warm…" he whispered.

She giggled. "You're starting to pick up on Partian flattery, Jean-Luc Picard."

"Perhaps," he replied. "Let's discuss it all over a glass of your winnings."


	12. Chapter 12

In the end, the Chancellor and the Captain decided to save the bottle of Chateau Picard for a special occasion they would spend together. Instead they programmed a substantial dinner from the replicator and enjoyed each other until Picard seemed near sleep.

So Sull kissed him and ordered him to bed. He had an early morning with much to oversee before they arrived at the Space Station. They had both been a little wistful to separate, but being incredibly responsible, they did.

Sull's smile fell as she left his quarters. She did not have much time before she would join Geordi and his team. Instead of heading to her quarters she turned and caught a turbolift to sickbay.

When she arrived she was greeted by a lovely female lieutenant with black hair. Her eyebrows lifted at the sight of the Chancellor.

"Chancellor?" she asked.

"Yes, Lieutenant…?"

"Ogawa," she answered with a smile. "What can I do for you?

"Lieutenant Ogawa, I am dehydrated. Can you supply me with fluids?" She folded her hands in front of her. Ogawa blinked and then nodded. She gestured to a biobed and retrieved a saline hypo.

"Can you recommend a protein supplement I can program into my replicator?" she asked as she sat.

"Yes of course, Chancellor. Are you feeling alright?" Alyssa applied the spray.

"Yes, thank you. It's just a bit of recovery and thinking ahead." She smiled and chuckled.

"I would've guessed you were training for a triathlon," she said with a laugh.

"Is this what you would prescribe?" Sull replied with a smile. She liked this Lieutenant.

"Yes," she replied. "Don't discount carbohydrates, though!"

When Sull returned to her quarters she programmed a high-protein breakfast bar and high-carb crackers into the replicator. She ate two of each, drank a pint of water, and took a shower.

Afterwards she took a sleep supplement and dropped off into intense dreams until her wakeup call warned her that she'd be expected in Engineering in an hour. She got up, washed her face, and dressed in sturdy gray pants and a dark blue tunic. She tied on thick-soled boots and braided her hair around her head.

She ate three protein bars, five crackers, and drank two pints of water. She packed a lunch of the same and left her quarters.

"The Chancellor popped in last night," Alyssa told Dr. Crusher when she arrived in sickbay that morning.

"Oh?" she replied.

"Yes," Alyssa nodded. "She came in for fluids and a program for protein and carbohydrate supplements."

"That's a little strange." Crusher furrowed her brow. But then she smiled a little because she'd considered doing the same thing after her first night with Dell. It seems the whispers might be a little true. Crusher wondered who among her friends had dehydrated the Chancellor.

"Are we expecting injuries from the Space Station?" Alyssa asked.

"Nothing serious. Their climate controls and life support were damaged, so they may be a little dehydrated, too."

When Sull arrived to Engineering early, she was surprised to see Data standing at the island, tapping away at the station. He picked up a P.A.D.D. and turned to leave.

Then he stopped short. "Chancellor, Good morning. Are you going aboard the Space Station?" His head tilted.

"Yes, Data, I am." She smiled and stepped closer.

"Are you sure that is wise?" he asked with a subtle side-eye.

She chuckled. "Yes, I'll be fine. Thank you."

He nodded, expressionless. "I will be on the Bridge during your repairs. I hope it goes well."

Sull felt a brief wave of listlessness. Before Data could go and others could arrive she touched his arm. "Data," she said. He looked into her eyes. "Let me kiss you before I go?"

He blinked and lifted his eyebrows. Then he bent lower and captured her mouth. She sighed at how cool and pleasant it felt. He pulled her into his arms and they stood there for a few moments, holding each other. Then they pulled apart, Data said, "Good luck, Chancellor," and he walked to the turbolift.

Sull watched him go and within a few minutes, Geordi arrived, flanked by a male and female Lieutenant, all wearing eager expressions.

"Hey," he said, when he walked up to her, a grin splitting his face.

"Hey, yourself. Where do you want me?" She lifted her eyebrows.

He tried not to giggle. "Let me give you a toolbox and then we'll head to the transporter room."

"Sounds great," she replied and took his arm. Nobody seemed surprised by this, but Geordi felt his heart flutter a little bit.

Twenty minutes later, Geordi led a crew of ten and Chancellor Sull to the transporter room. They were among the first four to arrive.

"Dr. Praxton," Geordi said, approaching a white-haired, dark-complected woman in a blue jumpsuit.

She shook his hand. "Commander La Forge, thank you for coming."

He nodded, "Of course, Doctor. I have Lieutenant Argo here to escort any of your staff to sickbay." Geordi gestured to a tall black woman in medical blue, who nodded and then followed a staff member down a corridor.

Dr. Praxton said, "Electrical Engineering is this way."

"Doctor," Geordi said, as they walked, "This is Chancellor Sull. She's a former Starfleet-"

"Oh yes!" Praxton replied, taking Lellee's hand. "Thank you so much for coming aboard."

"I'm glad to assist, Doctor..." Sull offered a sunny smile and she walked to Engineering in silence, listening to Praxton fill them in on the latest situation.

Thirty five minutes later, Sull was grateful to be the one to discover the source of the problem. A small incendiary device had silently burned away a sensor array in the propulsion system, sending the whole system into random flux. There had been no attempt to hide this fact from any real scrutiny. She pondered what to tell Geordi. The most reasonable immediate course of action would be to inform him and the Enterprise of her discovery and hypothesis.

She stood up and looked across the room at Geordi, who was scanning something she couldn't see. "La Forge," she said loudly. He looked up at her. She jerked her head and he came to join her.

"What is it?" he said.

"You only need to repair this," she replied, pointing down at the aftermath of the fire.

"What?" Geordi said, shocked. He bent down and began to scan it. Suddenly he felt her fingers on his shoulder. He looked up at her. She looked gently sad. Then she smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "What?" he said again as she walked away. But he didn't follow her. She told him to repair this array, and something told him he should listen.

This resolution on his part was impossible to keep once he realized what had caused the damage and where she had gone. "La Forge to Enterprise!" he shouted, hitting his badge with force.

"Enterprise here!" Picard replied.

Geordi spoke fast as he worked on the damage. "Captain, it was sabotage! They're on the Station and somewhere out there. They will take her!"

"Data, Worf, scan the surrounding space," Picard said quickly, gripping the arms of his chair. Troi sucked in a breath.

"They'll take whom?" Riker said as the Captain ordered.

"Sull! She just left me."

"Chancellor Sull is aboard the Space Station?" Picard said, alarmed, jumping to his feet.

"There is a ship decloaking starboard, Captain!" Worf shouted. Data's hands were a blur over the science station.

The moment of Geordi's discovery, Sull had arrived in the starboard corridor of the Space Station. There were four people there. Two men were in blue jumpsuits. Their fair skin was contrasted by angled black eyebrows and sharp cheekbones. The other two people were a bald white man and woman in thick, squared, black kevlar. Her blond hair was a braided rope wrapped around her head, much like how Sull wore her hair.

"Bettell?" Sull said to the blond woman, stepping closer. She was much taller than Sull with beautiful brown eyes.

"Yes, Chancellor. Do not resist." She took the Chancellor's hand in the Partian style.

"I will cooperate," Sull replied quietly. The bald man tweaked a communicator and said, "five to beam up."

Their figures shimmered into nothingness.

"It is an 'Alldem Mutt.'" Data said quickly. "They have activated a transporter."

"They are cloaking," Worf said.

"Red Alert" Picard added with volume. He sat again.

"Firing probe beacon," Data said suddenly. There was a sudden shimmer in space where the ship had reposed moments before. Then there was nothing.

"Report!" Picard demanded.

"They appear to have fled," Worf replied.

"Data," Riker said, getting up. "What did you do?"

"I fired a probe beacon onto the ship before they could jump to warp. They cannot activate their shields while cloaked and the shimmering effect we saw indicates it successfully attached itself." Data's fingers paused a moment as he watched the screen.

"So where is the ship?" Riker said, the Captain coming up behind him.

"It will be difficult to determine that, even with the beacon, Commander." Data said, a parade of numbers marching in front of his eyes. "Pilots with the Alldem Front employ an evasive tactic they call 'leapfrogging.' They drop out of warp to 'leap' over an object in their path. They calculate these 'leaps' and map them as an escape trajectory. Coupled with the cloaking devices they have managed to steal from Klingon ships, their tactic is formidable."

"Continue looking for the ship, Commander," Captain Picard said, walking away. His hands were shaking slightly.

"Enterprise to Commander La Forge," he said wearily.

"La Forge here…" Geordi's voice was hollow.

"Is Chancellor Sull still aboard the Space Station?" he said.

"No, Captain. And two of Praxton's staffers are missing as well…" He sighed heavily.

"What… is left to complete aboard the Space Station?" He said, sitting again.

"Nothing. Just send back the three staffers in sickbay and they're fine," La Forge said formally.

"Come back aboard the ship with your team, Commander," the Captain said.

"Aye, Captain…" La Forge replied. He was standing alone in a corridor. His hands were shaking, too. His organs seemed to contract. He sat down on the floor. She had known.


	13. Chapter 13

Sull walked through the black corridor of the Mutt, flanked by the two Alldemens in blue jumpsuits. She scanned her surroundings and tried to remember the schematics of the ship. She supposed it was relatively small, for speed and stealth, and that they'd house her far away from Engineering.

This was true. They escorted her to what appeared to be someone's cramped quarters which had been cleared out. The two Alldemens pushed her into a metal chair and affixed straps to her wrists and ankles. Then they left her, bound.

"Tell me again," Captain Picard said as he paced his ready room. Geordi sat in the chair in front of the Captain's desk, Counselor Troi standing behind him, her hand on his right shoulder.

"She pointed out the fried sensor array, told me to fix it, squeezed my shoulder, and left." He looked down at his hands.

"She said nothing else?" Picard said quietly.

"No, Captain. She..." He took a deep breath. "Not even a goodbye."

"How long do you think she knew?" Riker asked, leaning back on the couch. Nobody responded for a few moments.

Then suddenly Data stepped away from where he'd been still by the door. "Commander, I hypothesize that she knew before going aboard the Space Station."

"What makes you say that?" Riker replied, everyone turning to Data.

"I saw her in Engineering before Geordi arrived. Before I left she asked to kiss me. I did not consider that it might be a goodbye, or at the very least, a comfort before facing her kidnapping. I understand now that may have been her intent."

Everyone was silent. Picard was holding his breath. "She did not tell me she was going aboard the Space Station," Picard said.

Riker said. "I would never have allowed it, either." He eyed Geordi intensely.

"She didn't seem worried," Geordi said. "It never occurred to me she was being reckless or self-sacrificing. I just… trusted her."

"She's done what she thinks is best," Troi interrupted this intense broiling moment.

"The _Alldem Front _is reckless," Picard said, turning. "From what I now understand, if they do not have their demands met, they will torture and kill her."

"That would be incredibly stupid of them, Captain. Even for reckless radicals, killing a Chancellor of Partia?" Riker could not believe it.

"It's not impossible, Will," Troi added. "But I think that the Chancellor knows the Alldem Front better than any of us. If she allowed herself to be kidnapped, I think we should consider that she has some semblance of a plan."

"But how could she?" Geordi nearly shouted.

"The Chancellor is a noted strategist," Data added.

Picard sighed and looked at his desk before saying, "What are your thoughts on the probe beacon, Mr. Data?"

"The broad scan of the sector is nearly complete. With Geordi's help I believe we will be able to capture the signal and plot their trajectory," he replied.

"How long?"

"Two hours," Geordi said, his face taut. Data nodded after a moment. The Captain dismissed them all and they went to their posts.

"Chancellor," Bettell's voice said as she entered the room.

"Captain," Sull replied, politely.

"You'll come with me. We're going to make our demands." She directed two different Alldemens, both tawny women, to untie the Chancellor from the chair and bind her hands in front of her. Sull walked between them with ease.

When they arrived on the Bridge Sull was entertained to see it had been pulled out of some derelict Klingon Cruiser. She didn't know what the outside of the ship looked like, but if they had the cloaking device she suspected they did, it wouldn't really matter.

"I like your ship," she said to Bettell once she'd taken her place in front of the Captain's chair.

"Thank you. I built it myself," she replied, smirking down at the Chancellor.

"In better circumstances, I'd love to see Engineering," Lellee said pleasantly.

Bettell laughed, "I think in current circumstances you would love to as well, but not even a geezer like you would think me that stupid."

"Of course not." Sull smiled. "But perhaps one day things will be better between us and I'll have the pleasure of exploring your enchanting Mutts. They're really ingenious."

Bettell growled a little as Sull looked around the Bridge. "That's enough. It's showtime."

Bettell grabbed Sull by the right bicep and stood up ramrod straight, staring at the view screen. "Open the channels," she said and the bald man behind her activated the comms panel and fulfilled his orders.

"Captain!" Worf said, "We are being hailed from a scrambled source."

"On screen," the Captain said. He had to stifle a gasp as he saw Sull in the clutches of a tall blond woman on the Bridge of what looked like an antique Klingon ship. Worf growled softly.

"Partia, Alldem, and The United Federation of Planets: I am Captain Bettell, a military leader of the Alldem Front." The crew of the Mutt hooted once in unison. "This is our last and most important demonstration. We demand the age of relics end now. The dominion of Alldem by our ancestral inferiors is no longer tolerable. We have taken the Chancellor in order to illustrate the seriousness of our demands. We will make no more compromises."

"First," she held up a finger, Sull looking politely interested at Bettell rather than at the view screen. "The Partian government will grant sovereignty to the Alldem moon and its people." She held up another finger. "Second: All Partian representatives and spies will leave Alldem on supply ships we have prepared within the next 72 hours. And Third: The United Federation of Planets will recognize us as an autonomous people and subject to the same rights of non-interference as all developing worlds under the Prime Directive. We are an independent species. We will achieve more than what Romulans, Humans, or Partians have achieved, free from their dogma and their stagnation. If you resist us, we will begin open hostilities. If you do not comply in 72 hours, we will execute the Chancellor live for your viewing pleasure." Bettell sneered.

"I will personally disassemble her piece by piece with a dull blade." She squeezed the Chancellor's arm and displayed the weapon in question. Despite her best efforts, Sull trembled slightly before looking away.

"You have my assurance she will not be mutilated over the next 72 hours. She will be subjected to questioning. I will now demonstrate our methods." She let go of the Chancellor's arm and stepped away. Lellee looked back at her captor. The bald man handed Bettell a black baton.

Sull stared at it meekly. Bettell walked toward her. Sull could not know that at this moment Geordi had begun screaming at the view screen in Engineering. But there was nothing he could do.

Bettell took the Chancellor by the arm again and pushed her forward. She stood behind her, placed a hand on her shoulder, and said, "Consider these moments, Chancellor, before you decide on resisting our questions." Then Bettell pulled her hand away. She jabbed the Chancellor in the spine and the baton vibrated slightly. There was a silent moment before the pain bloomed in Lellee's back. She could feel the incredible sweet agony like a frozen knife between her shoulder blades. She'd never felt pain register in her brain stem before. She trembled, her face twitching, as Bettell held the baton to her back. She couldn't even step away, though there was room. She was paralyzed by the current emanating from the baton.

Then Bettell desisted. Lellee felt sweat drench her face in one moment, as if it had been held back by the charge. She felt as if her organs were going to fall out of her rectum and while she managed not to stumble forward and void her bowels, she did retch protein bar onto the deck of the Bridge and sway.

Even Captain Picard put a hand to his face when he saw Lellee vomit from the pain of her torture. He wanted to tell Worf to hail them. But he knew they would not reply. Bettell was enjoying this too much, as were her comrades back home.

At the same time of this realization, Picard watched Bettell move to the side and jam the baton into Lellee's ribs. This time she sucked in a deep breath and whimpered once. She closed her eyes and her head swam. Bettell held the current on her for a full five seconds. When she lifted it away, Sull fell to one knee.

"Was that too much, Chancellor?" Bettell mocked.

"Of course," Lellee said, spitting blood onto the bridge. "Any torture is too much." She looked up at her captor. "But the torturer wears scars, too, ettel Bettell."

Sull did not know that cheers went up all over Partia at this sassback, but they followed them with shrieks as Bettell charged angrily at Sull and touched the baton to her neck. Sull dropped like a rock and twitched into the fetal position.

"You Partians may think you're wise beyond wise, reasonable beyond reasonable. But you're walking corpses. You've died and yet keep walking. You should be put to sleep like old dogs. But we are more reasonable than you suppose. We only want our independence, our rights, our freedom. We will accept nothing but compliance." The Bettell prodded the Chancellor with her foot. She twitched, but made no sound.

Taken back to her holding cell, Sull's torture over the next two hours was uneventful. Bettell screamed and demanded, whispered and soothed, abused and tormented, but Sull merely closed her eyes, twitched with agony, and looked away. This was the worst physical pain to which she'd ever been subjected. She looked forward to crying extensively over this someday, when she was alone. She chuckled at her own optimism, which sent Bettell into a kicking rage her bald First Officer had to quiet with great effort.

"I wasn't laughing at you, Bettell," Lellee said when the Captain calmed down.

"Then what's so funny, Chancellor?" she hissed.

"I found myself looking forward to crying," Sull replied.

Bettell laughed and said, "That is funny. Why not cry now? You don't want to show me weakness?" She sneered.

"No," Lellee shook her head, which hurt. "I don't want to show you respect. You don't deserve to witness honest tears." She blinked. Bettell backhanded her, splitting her lip. She pulled the knife from her belt and grabbed Sull by the neck.

"Captain!" her First Officer yelled.

"I won't mutilate her, as I promised," Bettell replied. "I just want you to remember, Chancellor, that if your fellow cadavres don't follow our commands, we've made no promises about sparing Partian supporters their own mutilations."

"I will remember," she said. Those were the last words she shared with Bettell. It was only groans and torture from then on.

"Report," Captain Picard demanded of Geordi and Data.

"Data here," he replied from Engineering, hitting his badge. "Geordi and I believe we have found the location of the ship. The problem remains with their cloaking device. Once we arrive, we will not be able to see or detect them immediately. They will flee."

"Transfer the coordinates to the helm and Starfleet Command. Lieutenant Worf," he turned.

Worf stood up straight. "Lieutenant," Picard said again. "I recognized the Bridge of that ship, as did you. Do you believe you could be of assistance to La Forge and Mr. Data?"

"In helping them trap the ship?" he said. "I do not know, Captain, but I will try." Then he left turned away and began working at one of the stations behind tactical.

"I'll tell Partia and the Federation to comply with you," Sull said suddenly when Bettell left the room to cool off.

The bald officer looked astounded. "Why?"

"I can't take it anymore…" she said. "I won't give you secrets, but I will urge them to comply." Her head hung low. "Take me to the Bridge and I will record the communique."

"Bettell!" the officer shouted down the hall. She heard the two of them discussing her assertion. She hoped her timing was not off.

Bettell stomped in, looking triumphant. She grabbed Sull by the bicep and carried her toward the bridge.

"Hail them!" Bettell said.

"On screen!" Picard announced when the hail came through. Partia held its breath.

Sull took a deep breath, licked her lips, and said, "Partia and the United Federation of Planets: After facing the determination of the Alldem Front I urge you to follow their course. I have seen what we did not see. It is now that you must listen and take action."

"Ensign, plot an intercept course from La Forge's coordinates. Full speed!" He sat back and the pilot engaged.

Moments before they arrived, Bettell said, "Yes, listen to her! She says to acquiesce."

"Yes… I do…" She stuttered and stumbled forward onto an Alldemen as he sat at a station. He and Bettell laughed. Then Sull moved swiftly out of her supposed unconsciousness. She threw an elbow into the tactical officer's face, pushed him away, and with her bound hands, dropped the cloak and locked out the shields.

"No!" Bettell screamed as the Communications officer announced the arrival of the Enterprise. She grabbed Sull around the neck and beat her savagely on the back. Sull bulled into her, knocking her to the ground. Suddenly the ship shook, the officer screamed, "They've taken out the cloaking device!" and the comms panel chirped with a hail.

"On screen!" The bald officer shouted, pulling Sull off of Bettell.

"This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise. Power down your weapons and prepare to be boarded." They did not have a chance to respond because moments later Data, Worf, and two large male security officers were aboard the Bridge, brandishing phasers.

Bettell shrieked and launched herself at Data, attempting to thrust her blade into his gut. Instead he pivoted, took the hand in which she held the knife, and snapped her wrist. She screamed and folded to the ground.

"Do not resist!" Worf shouted! "Put your hands above your head!"

Sull lay on the floor, dizzy, fuzzy, nearing unconsciousness. She could hear the security team growing as more people transported from the Enterprise.

Then she heard a soft, "Do not worry, Lellee. It is me, Data." He kneeled down, undid her bindings, and very gently lifted her into his arms. "Two to beam directly to sickbay," he said firmly. Then the air shivered and they were free from the Alldem Mutt.


	14. Chapter 14

Sull was aware of things very slowly. First it was just a feeling of warmth, then by a strange perpetual ache that was not of much concern for the fog of euphoria. That's when she knew she was alive. Nothing is as good as sickbay painkillers. She groaned a little, gathering her senses. Something stirred to her left and then snorted.

"Lellee?" he whispered.

"Hmmmm, Dell?" she said, opening her eyes. His outline was fuzzy for a moment, but then she could see his face quite clearly. He looked alarmed and elated at the same time.

"You're up early," he whispered in Partian, leaning closer. "Or maybe late."

"Hmm?" She wiggled slightly under her blanket. Dell had replicated an afghan for her. She giggled.

"Everyone has finally fallen asleep. I half carried Beverly to her quarters not two hours ago." He leaned on his hand and yawned.

"But you're still here," she croaked.

"Of course." He closed his eyes for a moment.

"Why don't you go to sleep?" she asked, turning slightly.

He lifted off of his hand and looked around. Then he saw a free biobed behind him and said, "Ah." He jumped onto it and settled back.

"There's a nurse asleep, so we have to whisper," he said, his hands behind his head.

"How long have I been out?" Sull asked, scratching her nose and wincing at her sore back.

"Only two days. Beverly thought you might be out for another two or three. You only just stabilized tonight, or yesterday. We're on a fast course to Earth in case you need extensive medical attention."

"Fuck!" she said in English. Then she paused and said in Partian, "I feel alright. Why don't you go tell them they don't have to hurry?" She tried to sit up, but groaned and decided against it.

"Don't be difficult," Dell said testily. "I told you everyone is asleep. I took Beverly to bed after we heard from La Forge that they'd resolved whatever it is Engineers resolve and we could all relax."

"Wow," she said. "They are amazing, this crew…" she sighed.

"They are," he said. "I think a few of them will be angry with you." They looked at each other seriously.

"What's happened back home?" she evaded.

"Apparently you're brilliant," he said sardonically. "Your communiques were followed and eight ships arrived at Alldem shortly after you were rescued."

"Good." She smiled softly.

"They would not have been justified in seizing the moon if you had not been kidnapped." He widened his eyes. They were shiny with tears. "You didn't say goodbye to me."

Sull felt her eyes get hot. She closed them. "I'm sorry, Dell, but you would have known instantly." She opened her eyes again and looked at him. He'd been the most adorable little boy from whom she could never keep a secret.

"I would have…" He swallowed.

"There was nothing you could have done to assist me. If I had confided in you, it would have not only risked what little chance I had in succeeding; it would have tortured you."

"No," he whispered. "You are the one who was tortured, Lellee. You went with bravery to your own death. Your reasoning is totally sound, I don't dispute that. But I was so incredibly bereft. Please, if ever… confide in me before you go." He swallowed again.

Lellee sighed and with effort, lifted herself onto her side. She put her hand on her chest and said, "I promise. I'm sorry, Dell. I treated you like a boy again."

"I forgive you," he said jovially and put his hands behind his head again. "We all have to face death and mayhem sometimes, no?" Dell did not go to sleep then, however. He insisted Sull rest and then returned to his quarters to send a communique to Sull's parents that she was no longer in a coma.

At 0800 hours Dr. Crusher returned to sickbay and was astounded to find Sull awake and waiting for her. "Good morning, Doctor," she said and yawned.

"Lellee!" she nearly shouted and grabbed a tricorder. "You're awake. My goodness!" She pressed buttons furiously and the Chancellor chuckled.

"Yes, I am. I woke some hours ago."

"How do you feel?" Crusher asked, her eyes a little wild.

"My muscles are very sore, my legs feel weak, my head hurts, and I'm nauseated. But I'm hungry." She interlaced her fingers on her stomach.

"I can take care of the nausea and headache," Crusher said and she applied a hypospray to Sull's neck. She sighed with relief as her stomach settled.

"Ah, much better. Thank you."

"You'll have to keep food light for a few days," she said. "You suffered brain damage and serious burns to your heart and the muscles in your back. We performed surgery when you arrived. Follow my finger." She scanned it back and forth. "I had hoped to see you like this two days from now, so I think you're going to recover."

"Fantastic," Sull said. "Can I go back to my quarters?"

Crusher sighed and narrowed her eyes. "Maybe... in a few hours. I want to run some more tests. Then I'll leave with you some salve to apply and hyposprays."

"Thanks, Doctor. You've done amazing work."

Crusher flushed a little and smiled. "It's good to see you up. But now lie back." The Chancellor complied and Crusher asked Alyssa to help her prepare three different brain scans.

After Beverly personally escorted the Chancellor to her quarters, she sighed happily to find she could take a lunch break. She took a few turns and arrived at Dell's Quarters. He bid her enter and when she did he was sitting on the couch with a P.A.D.D. He stood up. He was in a navy blue tunic and matching slacks. His skin seemed to glow faintly and Crusher swayed, faintly.

"Beverly, you look so tired." He walked over to her and took her hands. "Come sit with me."

"Am I interrupting you?" she asked, following him.

"Oh, no. I need to take a break for lunch. I hope you'll join me." He sat her on the couch and walked to the replicator. She nodded and he programmed something distinctly Partian that Crusher didn't ask about, but enjoyed greatly in silence.

"I needed that," she said, wiping her mouth.

"I feel like I've been depriving you of sleep," he said, crossing his legs.

She sighed with a soft smile. He was beautiful. "Depriving is not the word I'd use. I just wasn't prepared for that whole… I don't know…"

"Yes. Unexpected disasters seem so much more draining than the ones you see coming." He stood up and offered her his hand. She took her hand and he led her back to the couch. She sat and he took a spot somewhere far away. He swung her legs into his lap and pulled off her shoes. As he rubbed her soles she groaned in pleasure and then giggled.

They sat silently for a while, just resting. Then Beverly took in a deep breath. "Dell," she began cautiously.

"Yes, mel-nen?" he asked, looking fondly into her eyes.

She giggled again. "What are your plans now?" She wiggled her toes and he squeezed them.

"I'm going to Earth. I suspect Lellee will want to go as well, defiant in her leisure as she is." He laughed. "Are you going to Earth?"

"Yes, to see my son," Beverly replied. "But as he's in session still, I was going to go home for a little while…"

"Where's home?" he asked.

"Copernicus City," she said, closing her eyes.

"A Luna girl! How romantic, Beverly."

"Hmmm," she said. "Would you…" she suddenly felt hesitant. "Would you like to visit with me? I know it's not Jamaica-"

She was cut off when Dell suddenly pulled her into his lap and kissed her intensely. She practically melted into his hot arms.

"Beverly…" he whispered into her ear. "Do you mean it?"

"Yes…" she said. Then she pulled away. "I… don't really know where you and I can go from here…"

He stared into her face for a moment. "I know what you mean," he said. "I adore you, Beverly Crusher, and I only want you to be happy."

"You are impossible," she said with a laugh. "I would like you to come home with me… for a little while."

"I would love that, mel-nen," he whispered as she nestled into his shoulder. "Then you will go; off to adventure aboard this ship, leaving me nothing to look forward to but your communiques."

She sighed happily. "I'll look forward to yours, too…" She tilted her head upward and he met her mouth with his.

They said nothing more, because lunchtime was nearly over. But Dell did manage to swiftly undress her, bend her over the couch, and satisfy her to the point of soprano notes. She arrived in sickbay with more energy than she'd had in days, though her legs did seem to wobble a bit from time to time.

After an hour, though still aglow, Dr. Crusher was troubled in sickbay. She had not alerted any of the senior officers that Chancellor Sull had awoken and been released to her quarters before lunch. No one had asked to be alerted, she tried to tell herself. But she knew it was only because they hadn't considered she would awaken before they arrived in the Terran system.

Crusher sat behind her desk pondering the situation. Everyone was on the Bridge except for Geordi, whom Crusher knew was in Engineering, and suspected was brooding.

She hit her combadge and said, "Dr. Crusher to Commander La Forge."

"La Forge here," he said. He was standing at the island in Engineering next to Data, who had come down from the Bridge by Geordi's request.

"Geordi…" Crusher began, and then hesitated.

Geordi's face felt hot suddenly and he sputtered, "What is it, Doctor?"

She took a deep breath and said, "Chancellor Sull is awake… She has returned to her quarters."

"Her quarters?" he nearly shouted. Then he was frozen. "Thanks, Beverly," he said.

Data was more frozen. Then he blinked and said, "It is remarkable that the Chancellor has recovered so well and so quickly from her injuries."

"Yeah," Geordi agreed immediately. "It seems a little appropriate." He turned away and walked to his office. He sat.

"Geordi, are you all right?" Data asked, joining him.

"I'm glad she's better," he replied, not looking at the android.

"You seem disturbed," Data said.

After a few moments Geordi nodded. "I guess I'm still a little mad at her for not telling us what she expected…." Data said nothing to this. Geordi smirked. "I guess it doesn't make sense to be mad at her. I know why she did it." He touched the back of his hand to his mouth. "I was just afraid…It's like I'm angry with her for scaring me." He smiled at Data.

Data frowned slightly. "I do not know what it is like to be angry with someone for risking their own life. However, I also wish the Chancellor had confided in me, especially as we embraced before she went aboard the Space Station."

Geordi sighed heavily. "At least you got that, Data," he said, just as heavily.

Data tilted his head. "Are you going to visit her, Geordi?"

Geordi shook his head. "Not today, Data." He looked up into Data's gold eyes. "With all of the human irrationality on board this ship, I think you might be the better visitor." He stood up. "I'll visit another day. Tell her for me?"

"I will, Geordi," Data replied. They left the office and Data returned to the Bridge to finish his shift. His thoughts occasionally wandered to his friend, the dutiful Engineer. In a small way, he wished he could contribute to the human irrationality on board this ship.

"Doctor Crusher to Bridge." Data had just taken his seat at the comm when the doctor's voice greeted them. He blinked.

"Yes, Doctor," the Captain said as he sat in his chair, flanked by Troi and Riker, Worf at tactical behind him.

"I wanted to let you know that Chancellor Sull is awake and has returned to her quarters."

The Captain closed his mouth tight, willing his face to be still. He noticed that Riker to his right grumbled under his breath and then sighed. He looked over at him. Then he said, "Thank you, Doctor" in a formal tone. Picard turned to a dark, bald female Lieutenant at the helm and told her she could drop speed. He leaned back and sighed.

"Inform Starfleet as to the Chancellor's condition," he said to Worf behind him, who complied.

Data chanced a glance at the Captain and First Officer. They seemed to "seethe," as Data understood the word. He reflected on their frustrations when the Chancellor had first been kidnapped. Then Data glanced at the Counselor, who looked concerned and watchful, but not angry. He decided to consult her on this new curious reaction he had never observed in humans before. Then he reflected that he would have the opportunity to discuss it with the person whom had initiated these powerful emotions. He looked down at the panel before him, seeing nothing unusual in the sector as they passed through it. It would be a relief to everyone, he knew, to get off of this _damn_ ship for six weeks.


	15. Chapter 15

When Data's shift ended he rode the turbolift in utter stillness, arrived on a deck, walked the length of the corridor, and took another turbolift. As he arrived at the door of Sull's guest quarters, he stopped just before the sensor would detect his presence and chime. The impulse was puzzling. He considered that it might be late in the evening, being after 2000 hours, to call on someone recovering from the extensive injuries she had received. The fact that he had not pondered this before he left the Bridge was further puzzling. He analyzed this situation as a kind of "doubt." Or it might be "ambivalence." Or perhaps he was being "thoughtful." He was not sure why, but this last consideration recollected a number of situations in which Counselor Troi had said with a soft smile, "Data, you are overthinking."

Dr. Crusher had also once suggested that Data was "worried" about Geordi's well-being as a number of his former shipmates had begun disappearing mysteriously. Data had a sense that somehow this memory and the fact of Geordi's common intimate connection with the Chancellor had some kind of larger meaning he did not fully understand. It was as if the triangle was a clue to something he had long searched for, but could not define.

Somehow he found this encouraging.

He determined that the most "reasonable" course of action would be to offer his company to the Chancellor and if she declined it, leave. He remembered that she had suggested he was capable of optimism. He decided this visit would be an act of optimism. So he took two steps forward and waited as the sensor chimed his arrival.

"Come," Sull said, lounging on the couch under the afghan Dell had replicated for her.

Data walked in, still-faced. Sull felt her heart flutter in elation to see him, but she could not help but observe there was something somewhat..._unsure_… about his countenance. This was very curious.

"Data!" she said, happily, reaching out her hand. "I'd get up to hug you, but I'm a bit weary. Please sit with me." She gestured to the couch and swung her legs down to the floor. She winced.

"Thank you, Chancellor," Data said, sitting.

"You know, I did say I'd like you to call me Lellee," she said, tucking her chin to her chest.

Data blinked. "Yes, you did say that. I apologize."

"I don't think you forgot, Data," she said, squinting.

"No, I cannot forget," he said, tilting his head.

"Then why did you call me Chancellor?" she asked.

Data opened his mouth, but found he had no reply. "I do not know," he said, lifting his eyebrows. Sull resisted giggling at the utter _surprise _on his face.

"If you were anyone else I would say it's a sign you are displeased with me," she said.

"I am not capable of feeling displeasure, Lellee," he said.

"Do you disagree with my decision not to inform you of my plan?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows.

Data was still at this. He had told Geordi… He blinked. "I would have preferred that you inform me, Lellee." They held each other's eyes. The last time he had seen her, she had been deathly pale, bruised, and bleary eyed. He had in particular noted that her lips were bloody and cracked, as if she had bitten into them to stifle screams. This conclusion had occupied him more than any others he had made as to her condition following her rescue.

"I understand that I should have," she said. "I knew you would launch the probe beacon. Given the trust I held in you and your fellow crew, there was no reason for me not to relate the entire plan." She looked away. "I think it's a bad habit I picked up as a Starfleet Engineer. We're supposed to be 'miracle workers,' you know." She laughed. Obviously, Data did not.

Lellee reached out her hand to him. "Data, please forgive me." He blinked and looked at her outstretched fingers. Her hands were long and slender, the joints boney and prominent. Taking it in his hand, he processed the temperature and texture more analytically than he had before. It was interesting that despite how wholly inhuman she was, she had given him ideas about his own artificial humanity he had not considered before.

"I do not know what it means to forgive," he said very quietly. "But I accept your explanation and find it sound." She smiled widely, her black eyes glistening. She squeezed his hand and then wiped away a tear with her free fingers. After a few minutes, which passed quite peacefully for Sull, Data said, "Geordi is experiencing complex emotions for you. He asked me to tell you that while he could not visit you today, he intends to."

Lellee nodded. "I understand. It was… worse than I expected." She looked away, taking her hand from Data and readjusting the afghan on her lap.

"Can I provide some relief?" he asked.

Sull had to resist smirking. There was something secretly scandalous about how directly Data spoke. Though he would likely never intentionally make a double entendre, she found herself ascribing them to the many genuine things he said.

"Thank you, Data, but I think I'm well. All I am to do is lounge around and apply a salve to my contusions in the mornings and evenings. Overall, my recovery has been quite cooperative." She smiled and folded her hands in her lap.

"Have you applied the salve this evening?" he asked.

Sull blinked. "No, I haven't," she said. "Are you offering to help me apply it?" She wiggled her eyebrows.

Data tilted his head to the side. He had attempted to integrate an expectation for coquettish replies, but he had so far failed to anticipate them, despite their obviousness in retrospect. Data squinted. "I had intended to, though it was with," he looked right and then lifted his brow as he said, "_platonic_ motivations."

"I know, Data," she said. "I'm just an old lech." She smiled and leaned back.

"I will…" he began, "still assist you." He tilted his head. "Though I am concerned about your further injuring yourself if we make love."

Sull sighed heavily, closing her eyes. "I think it's just what I need. I'm sure you're capable of being marvelously gentle." She opened her eyes.

Data looked away. He had not expected this. But he resolved that they _were_ lovers. It did not seem unreasonable that lovers would make love following such a harrowing victory, if his most recent novels were accurate, that is.

Data stood up. He leaned forward. "Shall I carry you to the bed?" he asked.

Sull giggled. "Yes, Data. Your skill in romance is amazing."

Data's chin twitched and he pulled his brows together. This might have been sarcasm in anyone else…. He resolved to analyze the meaning later. He bent down, pulled the afghan from her lap, and lifted Lellee into his arms. She felt exceptionally warm, warmer than usual. She must have been lying on that couch for some time.

He walked her to the bed, laid her gently down, and asked, "Do you need help undressing?"

"I can manage," she said. "I'd rather see you shed that uniform."

He lifted his eyebrows and nodded. He unzipped his uniform jacket and dropped it on the floor. That was a part of the programming he did not understand, leaving clothing on the ground. But she seemed to appreciate it. She slipped out of her shift dress and pulled off her underwear. She relaxed totally on the bed, naked, feeling the cool air tickle her skin and stiffen her nipples. Data stepped out of his boots and dropped his trousers. When he had stripped he looked around. There was a jar on the nightstand.

"Is this the salve?" he asked.

"Mmhmm," she hummed, gazing at his body, her mouth pulled up in a deep smirk.

He reached for it, bending slightly. She sighed. "Data, you are a glorious sculpture."

He sat down next to her on the bed. "Thank you, Lellee. Where must I apply the salve?"

Rather than answer, she rolled over on her stomach. She tucked her arms under a pillow and rested her head on it. Data looked at her back. There were four angry bruises on either side of her knobby spine. They were purple, with black centers, fanning out into blue and yellow.

"These contusions look acute," he said.

"Apparently they were much worse when I arrived. I haven't looked."

"I do not believe you would want to," he replied. She laughed. He opened the jar and asked, "How much of the salve should I apply?"

"I think about half an ounce should do it." She took a deep breath.

Data scooped out some of the cool lotion with the fingers of his right hand. He put the lid back on the jar that rested on his knee, and then set it back on the nightstand. "Please alert me if I cause you pain," he said. Then he dotted each bruise with some of the salve and gently began to rub it in.

Sull sighed heavily. "That's heavenly, Data," she purred.

Data's mouth quirked up into an odd little smile. There was an abstract kind of satisfaction in understanding he was comforting to her. He leaned over her a little, massaging her muscles carefully as she let out soft little moans. He looked down at her buttocks and legs, the way the smooth skin, fat, and muscle followed the line of her durable skeleton. He suddenly remembered breaking Captain Bettell's wrist. Sull groaned happily. Data looked up to see her smile. Then he looked back down as she wiggled her hips slightly, squeezing her thighs together.

As he finished rubbing in the last of the salve, Data ran his fingers along the back of her knees. She giggled. His mouth twitched upward again. He slid his left hand up over her thighs and ran his right hand down until the two of them met and squeezed her buttocks. Sull giggled again, which tapered out into a moan. Data massaged her for a few minutes, running his hands along the muscles of her legs. He thought about when they'd first been together, how she'd asked him to take her from behind, and how he had processed the sensations of burying himself in her, pressing himself against her flesh.

This activated his sexuality programming and he became quite hard. He found this intriguing, another example of a semi-spontaneous execution. Further exploring his sexuality seemed an important activity. But he determined that he would not yet put his erection to use.

She seemed to be greatly enjoying the attention of his nimble and gentle hands. She was floating on a slow current set by the pace of his squeezing. She chuckled to think he'd been concerned with hurting her. He could probably touch a soap bubble and it wouldn't pop. She took in a deep breath and wiggled her hips again, parting her legs slightly. Data slipped his fingers between them, massaging her thighs with firm, satisfying pressure. It was wonderful and invigorating. She wished she weren't so sore and weak, for she would have loved to have another torrid night with him. But these delicious touches were more than satisfactory.

"Mmm, Data," she hummed. He squeezed her buttocks firmly, running his thumbs along where her thighs ended between her legs. She was was already quite wet, and she couldn't help but press her hips into the mattress and grind.

"Shall I continue this, or would you prefer I do something else?" he asked quietly.

"I trust your instincts," she said throatily.

Data tilted his head at this. It was programming, not instinct. But he did not think this was the time to correct her. So he looked down at where he squeezed her. He put his hands around her thighs and lifted them gently, parting her legs so her wet folds were exposed to the air. She gasped. Then he ran his thumb along her lips. They were slick and hot. She trembled at how smooth his hand was, how controlled his movements were. He stroked her, just stopping before her clitoris, taunting her. She mewled softly and thrust into the mattress. Then he slipped his thumb between her lips, gently circling her opening.

He found his mouth was open, so he closed it. He leaned above her and slid his other thumb over her clitoris. Lellee exhaled a moan. He drew little circles in opposite directions, moving so slowly she started to feel dizzy. Her whole body flushed and she found herself clenching and aching.

"Shall I slide into you, Lellee?" he asked.

"Mmm, yes, Data. I would love it," she replied, smiling into the pillow.

With graceful agility, Data climbed on top of her, nudging her legs slightly farther apart. He held his member in his hand and ran the head of it along her wet opening. She shivered and clenched again. Then, with agonizing slowness, Data sheathed himself in her. He was careful to put none of his weight on her, and steadied himself perfectly on his hands and knees. He pulled out of her and she groaned. He filled her and she moaned.

With cautious, thoughtful slowness, he tantalized her. She reveled in how he stretched her so thoroughly. He shifted his angle and filled her even deeper. Her mouth fell open and she sighed with each penetration.

"I am motivated to make you climax several times tonight," he whispered in her ear. "Is this effective?"

Sull laughed and wiggled. "Yes, Data. I do love your dirty talk…"

Data tilted his head. _Dirty talk_ was a technique he did not have confidence in. He looked down and watched the rhythm of his penetration. 

"I do not know what to say," he admitted.

"Don't worry about it," she said with a chuckle. "Just keep filling me with that big cock of yours and…" she gasped as he suddenly picked up speed.

His mouth twitched with a certain satisfaction at surprising her. Her moans lifted in key and he kept at his brutal pace. In time she began to twitch and tremble, her groans increasingly needy.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked.

"No!" she moaned. "Don't stop, Data. I love how you fuck." She pushed herself up a few inches on her knees to meet him as he filled her again. He slid down onto his left elbow and put his right hand under her pelvis. He nuzzled her ear and slid his middle finger over clitoris.

"Data!" she shouted. He circled his finger, matching the pace of his thrusts, which became more eager, but no less controlled. He pumped into her, her yelps keeping time.

"Lellee…" he whispered. She moaned and squeaked "Yes!"

"What will make you climax?" he asked.

"Faster, Data…" she whispered back.

"You wish me to _fuck_ you faster?" he asked.

She giggled and mewled, "Yes!"

He picked up speed. "_Fuck_ you like this?" he said, then let out a suggestive vocalization at a sudden burst of sensations.

"Yes, Data! Fast like that," she answered.

"And my fingers? Do you like this?" he said, pressing a little harder as he circled her clitoris.

"Yes, Data," she answered. "How does it feel?" she asked.

"Quite hot," he answered, thinking over the sensations. "It is… overwhelming," he said.

Then he took in what sounded to Sull like a deep breath and began to kiss the back of her neck as he ground in and out of her.

She turned her head to the left and saw them reflected in the window that looked out into black space. His beautiful golden body seemed to glow faintly in the starlight and he was graceful, unimpeded by fatigue or distraction. His lovemaking was a calculated art and she felt intoxicated by his touch. As his thrusts became shallow and fast she trembled beneath him, marveling at the vision of them reflected back. She felt her body convulse with a climactic shock that seemed to bolt out of his member and electrify her bones and tissues. She screamed, his pumps a sensual geyser, and her face bloomed with hot blood from her pounding heart.

Coming down from that fantastic climax, she spasmed, trying to focus on the little moans he offered as his pace slowed to erratic, post-orgasmic thrusts. _Overwhelming_. She liked the sound of that.

"Are you well?" Data asked quietly after he settled to her left.

"Very well, Data," she purred, feeling as if she were melting into the bedding. "And marvelously relaxed."

"I did not hurt you?" he asked.

"You didn't," she confirmed. For a moment Lellee was poised to say, "Don't worry." But she realized he would simply reply, "I am incapable of feeling worry," and gaze away toward his own distant thoughts.


	16. Chapter 16

The next morning Sull woke feeling refreshed, but sore in an accomplished sort of way. She felt as if she'd spent the whole day before ice climbing. If only there was a hot tub in the snow she could sink into with a bottle of watla and several very attractive Starfleet officers. But if Dell and Data were correct, Data might be the only one to slip into the bubbles, which would probably be like hot-tubbing with a Vulcan.

She sighed and rose from her bed. It was actually after 1200 hours, not morning at all. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept in so late, but then she laughed to think that a two-day coma was probably her record. She stood in front of the couch, stretching gently, looking out into the endless beauty of space. She found that she rather missed having adventures aboard a Starship. Her last mission as an admiral was to hitch a ride to Khitomer to join in diplomatic relations with the Klingons as they settled.

She suddenly envisioned Colonel Worf. They'd sat around his table once, drinking and eating. His son had just gone to bed when he leaned forward and began to tell Sull about the trial of Kirk and McCoy. It was a riveting story and the Colonel told it with an arresting authority. She had been so impressed with him. He smashed all of the old prejudices and stereotypes and lies about his people. She saw firsthand the depths of his sense of honor, his empathy and commitment as a father and husband, and his confidence as a leader. They had only met in person that once. But he and his wife sent her communiques, telling her all about the thriving colony and sending along pictures of the adorable Mogh as he grew into a fine young man. She had met him again at his father's funeral. He'd squeezed her hand hard. You would have never known it to look at him, but she could sense his sorrow and his respect for the powerful warrior that had been his sire.

She had brought the bottle of bloodwine with her. The Colonel had given it to her as she left Khitomer that first time. She'd decided to save it, to drink with them when Mogh was grown. But she'd failed to return before his father's death. And though she had intended to drink the bottle with Mogh following the funeral, he seemed to want distance as he grieved. So she decided to wait until she could drink with Mogh and his grown sons.

But she'd failed to return. And Mogh had died tragically. She wished she had known him better. But now she was aboard the ship with his son, Worf; named for his powerful grandfather. She chastised herself and vowed she would not make the same mistake _three times_. So she brought the bloodwine with her aboard the Enterprise. By the end of that day, she'd made up her mind. Recovery or no recovery, she was going to visit Lieutenant Worf. She reached into a bag that carried a personal P.A.D.D. and the bottle. She sat the bottle on the coffee table and lit up the device. She touched some numbers and opened a folder that contained several photographs. She sent the images to the replicator. After some programming, a photograph of Colonel Worf holding a three-year-old Mogh replicated in a simple black frame. She repeated the process and produced a framed photograph of Mogh holding Worf, as his father had held him.

She tucked the framed pictures in a gift bag and grabbed the bottle. She walked to the door and swayed slightly. Her legs felt heavy and her back was still very sore. So she walked back to the replicator, sat down the items, and replicated a wooden cane. Then she gathered up her supplies and slowly walked, assisted, down the corridor to a turbolift.

"Come," the Captain said as he sat behind the desk in his ready room.

Counselor Troi walked in, looking tired. She was in dark green, which was a little unusual. She smiled and took the seat in front of his desk. "Good evening, Captain."

"Counselor," he said, leaning back. "What can I do for you?"

"May I ask how long it will be until we arrive?" She leaned back too and crossed her legs.

"We should be back in approximately thirty eight hours," he replied. Then he sighed. They sat a few minutes in silence. Finally, looking around a little awkwardly he said, "Is there anything else?"

She sighed too and interlaced her fingers on her knee. "Captain, is there something you would like to talk about?" She looked marvelously sympathetic; one of her many talents.

The Captain frowned. Then he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk, his hands folded together. "You've always read me like a book," he said with a feeble smile. "I think…" he began, looking away. "I think I am even more exhausted than I was…" he looked down at his hands. "It was… _traumatizing_, I suppose…"

"The kidnapping of the Chancellor," the Counselor filled in.

He nodded. "It was only two hours, but I felt like my heart might give out." He pressed his right fist to his mouth. Then he stood up and walked to the window where he looked out into space. "The Chancellor and I spent the evening together, the evening before she was taken." He was quiet for nearly a minute, thinking, his insides squeezing.

"She never told me she was going aboard the Space Station," he said. "I am not sure if she omitted the information because she believed I would try to stop her, or if she simply didn't think it pertinent for me to know." He turned back to the Counselor.

"I haven't seen her, so I can't guess," she said. The Captain resumed his seat.

He ran a hand over his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "I feel as though she misled me. I find myself resenting her for… well…" he smiled wryly, "I suppose I resent her for seducing me at such a time."

The Counselor smiled back. "I think she has been a little impulsive," she said. "But then I think like all of us, she's been overworked for quite some time." She exhaled. "But I am sure that she cares for you. She would never have pursued you if she did not have sincere affection for you."

"But the others," he said. "How many aboard the ship? La Forge, Data, even Lieutenant Barclay, for goodness sake." He leaned back again.

"I believe that last one is a false rumor," she said with a giggle.

"Oh?" he said, lifting his eyebrows.

"Frankly, I think he's too timid." She recrossed her legs. "But it doesn't really matter with whom she's also connected intimately. For Partians, polyamory is quite normal, and based on what I know of her reputation over the years, she is a prolific lover."

"A prolific lover?" he said, with a smirk.

"A word you might prefer is '_seductress_,'" the Counselor laughed. The Captain did not. He looked thoughtful. "Captain," she said. "Seeing a woman with whom one has been intimate kidnapped and tortured would be traumatic for anyone. Even Will is upset, and they've only had a platonic relationship." She leaned forward. "Go talk to her," she suggested. "Hear what she has to say. I believe you'll find her very reasonable."

"Of course I will," he said. "That's the Partian way."

"It's also her way as an individual. She will be sympathetic. And I think if you let her, she will be your friend for the rest of your life, and probably hers." She smiled.

The Captain exhaled. "All right, Counselor," he said. Then he leaned back and said, "Computer, where is Chancellor Sull?" he said.

"Chancellor Sull is in Lieutenant Worf's quarters," the computer replied.

The Captain and Troi looked at each other with raised eyebrows. "She knew his grandfather, I believe," she said. The Captain blinked at this. And then he smiled.

"Chancellor," said Worf, looking positively shocked to see her walk into his quarter after the bell chimed.

"Lieutenant," she said, "Am I disturbing you?"

"No," Worf replied, "I was going to prepare a meal…" He looked around. "Would you care to join me?"

"That would be wonderful!" she said, setting a gift bag down on the table. Worf looked awkwardly at her as she took a seat with effort and leaned her cane against the chair.

Worf turned and went to the replicator. "What would you care for, Chancellor?"

"Whatever you're having is fine," she said.

"I…" he began, "I was going to have a kale salad and… rokeg blood pie." He looked doubtful.

"That sounds lovely. I haven't had rokeg blood pie in a very long time." She smiled.

He smiled a little too. Then he replicated the food and sat it on the table. "Would you like a beverage?" he asked.

"I have brought a beverage…" she said quietly.

"Oh," he said. "Thank you, Chancellor. I will get some glasses." He turned away and did just that. She reached into the bag and pulled out the old bottle.

When he turned he paused for a second, looking at the bottle. Then he looked at her face. She looked very tired and a little pale. Worf sat. The Chancellor opened the bottle and poured them both two fingers of the beautiful liquor. They lifted their glasses and toasted silently. Then they drank.

"This is…" he said, breathing deeply with pleasure, "very good bloodwine…"

"Yes…" she said, looking into the glass. Then her eyes welled with tears.

"Chancellor?" Worf said, alarmed. Two fat tears rolled down her face. But she wiped them away.

"It's very special to me, this bloodwine…" She looked into his face.

"Is it?" he replied.

"Yes… Worf…" She leaned forward and swallowed. "I…" She breathed in. "I received this bottle as a gift… from… your grandfather."

Worf breathed deeply again and said, "Colonel Worf? You knew my grandfather?"

"Yes…" she said, "I met him at Khitomer. We dined and talked often on that trip. And…" she paused, "he gave me this bottle when I left. I never saw him in person again." She looked back into the glass. "But we kept in touch over the years."

They were silent. Then she looked up at his very serious expression. "I made a mistake twice, Lieutenant," she said. "I meant to drink this with your father and grandfather together. But I failed in that. Then I failed again, in that I decided to wait to drink it until I could share it with Mogh and his grown sons… with you…"

They were quiet for a minute. "I wish we had been able to do that," he said.

"So do I… but… I decided not to fail again. So, here we are." She smiled.

"Thank you, Chancellor…" He drank deeply. She poured him another glass. They ate their meal and exchanged stories about Colonel Worf, Mogh, and Worf's life aboard the ship.

When they were finished, they refilled their glasses and leaned back. "I find I miss Klingon food," she said. "It's rather heavy, but I always feel like I've accomplished something after I've finished."

Worf chuckled. "Yes, I have not found that many other people like Klingon food. Though Commander Riker ate it extensively before he transferred aboard a Klingon vessel as part of the officer exchange."

"How did he like gagh?" she asked.

"I think he was not prepared to eat it live once he was aboard the ship. But I understand he did, and was well respected." Worf inhaled deeply.

"I have something else for you," Sull said suddenly. She'd placed the gift bag on the floor. She lifted it up and opened it. She handed the first photograph of Colonel Worf to his grandson.

Worf looked at it intently. "There is a strong resemblance between my grandfather and myself," he said with great pride.

"Yes," she said. "It was most startling to me when I first met you." Then she reached into the bag and pulled out the second image.

Worf looked very serious as he stared at it. "This is Mogh… and me…" He looked up. "How did you get these photographs?" he asked.

"Your grandfather and father sent them to me, quite kindly. I was not close to your father, but he was thoughtful enough to send me this when he took it, for he also had a copy of the one of him and your grandfather."

"That was thoughtful…" he said.

"Your sires were great men," she said. "Of all the Klingons I've met in the intervening years, they displayed sincerely the greatest qualities of their people. They were brave and noble warriors. They were strong and fearless, but they were also kind and reasonable men."

"I knew that they were men of honor," Worf said quietly.

"The greatest of honor. I am very privileged to have known them. And I hope I will have the privilege of knowing you," she said, smiling.

Worf looked serious, glancing between the photographs. Then he stood up and walked across the room. He picked up a P.A.D.D. and then moved to the replicator. After a moment, he generated a photograph in a simple black frame. He walked back to the table, sat, and handed the frame to the Chancellor. She looked down at it. Worf stood with his hand on his son's shoulder.

"His name is Alexander," he said.

"He looks very smart," she said.

"He is. He has not been raised just as Klingons are. He is with my adoptive human parents now. His mother…" Worf paused, swallowing, "was half human."

"Really?" she said. "I didn't think that was possible. This is a very special young man," she said, looking back down at Alexander's smiling face.

"Yes," Worf said. "Perhaps one day the three of us will share another bottle of bloodwine."


	17. Chapter 17

It was a little after 2100 hours when the Chancellor stepped out of the turbolift on her deck and began walking to her quarters. She leaned heavily on the cane, taking extra care of the empty bloodwine bottle. She squeezed the handle of the gift bag and had to resist getting misty-eyed over the framed photo she would set on her mantel once she returned home to Partia.

She smiled to think she had sixty days all to herself, all on Earth, far away from Partia and the hullabaloo that surely followed the Alldem rebellion. "_Fuck that," _she thought. She'd recorded her testimony and the main events had been captured live. She thanked her lucky stars that she wasn't in government anymore and could skip the proceedings. She felt a little disappointed, though. It would be a great honor to assist in the case. But she was simply too exhausted to be of much use. This weary feeling was lifted when she arrived back at her quarters.

He had just turned to leave, frowning, when he found himself face-to-face with Sull. "Lellee," Geordi said quietly, still frowning. He squeezed his fists tightly for a moment. "I… came to visit, but you were…"

"I was visiting Worf. Look," she said, reaching into her bag and handing him the photo.

Geordi took it. Then he smiled. "That's really sweet of him."

"I knew his grandfather," she said. Geordi nodded and then handed back the photo. He had not imagined their reunion this way. He'd imagined arriving at her quarters and sharing a tearful embrace. Instead they stood on her deck, discussing another man.

"Please come in, Geordi," she said, gesturing to the door. He nodded and followed her inside. When she sat the bag on the coffee table he noticed for the first time she was leaning on a cane. She was in a light green frock that fell in waves to her ankles. The sleeves flowed in billows. She was beautiful, though pale.

"How… are you?" he asked as she leaned the cane against the dining table.

She turned, looking tearful. "I'm all right," she said. Then, unexpectedly, she rushed to him, took both of his hands in the Partian way, and held them to her chest. "Geordi," she whispered. "I am so sorry I didn't tell you. I know now I should have."

He sucked in a deep breath. He had not expected an apology. "It was a great strategy," he said, surprising himself. Then he couldn't help but smile for the strangely youthful look of regret on her wise face. Then he leaned forward and rested his forehead on the top of her head. "I forgive you," he whispered.

She sighed and giggled. "I'm so glad. Please kiss me." She tilted her head back and their lips met gently. He sighed. She always felt so incredibly warm. They stood that way for several minutes, holding hands, kissing. Then her legs trembled and she said, "Let's sit down."

He complied and escorted her to the couch, where she plopped down and bounced. Geordi laughed. She huffed and leaned back. Then she winced and leaned forward, closing one eye.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's the contusions. They're rather sore. I've been sitting in a dining chair for too long. This couch is lovely, though." She grabbed a pillow and tucked it into the corner of the couch. She leaned back and sighed, finally comfortable.

Geordi swallowed hard, thinking of her torture. "I'm so sorry, Lellee," he said.

"Why?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows, looking miserable.

"I'm sorry that happened to you. I'm sorry I couldn't think of anything to do, that we took so long finding you." He looked away.

"No, Geordi," she said, taking his hand and pulling him closer. "You did brilliantly! I had hoped beyond hope that it would be two hours, and it was! That's why _I_ should be sorry." She touched her chest. "I trusted your skills completely and I took them for granted by not telling you my plan." She sighed. "It must have caused you great pain."

"You were the one who was tortured," he said, looking down. She smiled, thinking of Dell.

"There are worse things than physical pain," she replied, squeezing his hand.

Geordi nodded. "I felt like I was going to lose my mind," he admitted. He thought back. "When I first saw you on that Bridge... when she shoved the baton into your back… apparently I was shouting at the screen. I barely remember it. I do remember three Engineers had to hold me back from jumping into a shuttlecraft to track the coordinates in real time."

She smiled. "That was very gallant of you, Geordi."

"Don't tease me," he huffed.

"I'm not! I'm very moved." She kissed his hand.

"I know… that…" he began, "what we've shared isn't something out of a fairy tale." He looked down at his boots. "When I'm old and gray you will look almost the same…" He took in a deep breath. "But I… I care for you. I may even be in love with you." He looked up into her face.

A tear ran down her cheek. "Oh, Geordi. I'm so honored."

He laughed and stood up. "I tell you I'm in love with you, and you're _honored?_"

"Yes, I am. You are a remarkable and beautiful man. I feel overwhelmed with the privilege I've had to spend time with you, to tour your engines, to touch your heart as you've touched mine." With great effort she stood up.

He moved to her instinctively. "Be careful," he said.

"I've always had a bit of a reckless streak, Geordi." She took his hands. "My parents have lectured me for centuries about it. But while I hate to think I may hurt you, I can't regret my impulse to make love with you." She stretched onto her toes and kissed his cheek.

"Partians and humans couple somewhat differently, I know," she continued, "but we both have our own lives, too. You would not be happy as a Chancellor's husband and I would not be happy as Starfleet Engineer's wife. But…"

"But," he interrupted, "we can be close, can't we?"

"Oh yes, please. Let us be close. Geordi…" She took his elbows and pulled him to her. A smile lit up her face and she exclaimed, "Geordi, how much leave do you have coming up?"

"Six weeks," he said. It was a miracle.

"What are your plans?" she asked.

"Visit some friends and family, I suppose. I've not really had time to make a lot of decisions." He looked down into her eager face.

"Geordi, spend a week with me," she burst out.

Geordi's mouth fell open, shocked. "A week?"

"Yes!" she said. "A friend of mine is lending me her cabin in the Mendocino woodlands. You know that place?" He nodded. "It's beautiful. It's nestled in redwoods and looks out at the estuary and the sea. There are tide pools, trails, birds, banana slugs, and cold winds. I'm going to convalesce there for a few weeks. Please spend some of it with me!"

Geordi was dumbstruck. His mouth felt dry. "Spend a week?"

"Yes! I'd say more, but I don't want to monopolize your vacation!"

"Of course I'll stay with you," he said, surprising himself.

Lellee squealed with glee and threw her arms around his neck. She let out an "ouch!" but didn't let go. He carefully encircled his arms around her hips, minding the tenderness of her back.

"You really want me to go?" he said quietly, sheepishly.

"Yes! I would love it. It's so beautiful. I've only been once, when Starfleet headquarters first set up in San Francisco, and I have always wanted to go back. It would be wonderful walking the forests and the windy beach with you." She pulled away and blinked, tears stuck to her eyelashes like dew.

Geordi laughed. "This may be the best vacation of my life," he said.

"Did someone tell you Partians love sincere flattery?" she giggled.

"Yes. But they didn't tell me it would come so easily." He kissed her forehead.

"I hope that's a double entendre," she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"You're terrible, you know that?" He chuckled. "Is there nothing else on your mind?" He put his hand on her cheek.

"What else could there be when I'm in the arms of such a handsome man?" She beamed and bent her head back to kiss him. He opened his mouth for her hot tongue and groaned when it slid along his. He unconsciously dropped his hands to her buttocks and cupped them, lifting her up. She giggled into his mouth and he carefully carried her to the bed.

She pulled up on her knees and attacked his uniform, freeing his smooth dark skin to the cold air of her quarters. He kissed her neck and found the zipper of her frock, pulling it down. He cautiously ran his fingers down her back and she shivered.

"That feels nice," she whispered.

"Let me see," he whispered back, sounding serious.

She sat down and turned, posing like a sculptor's model. The bruises were now more of an eggplant color than black, though they still fanned out into a disturbing yellow. Geordi grunted. "I can't believe anyone would want to hurt you," he whispered, gently touching the contusions.

"Those who inflict pain on others wound themselves," she said casually. "What she did to me was not about my own pain. It was about hers."

Geordi sat on the bed, astonished. "Are you saying you forgive her?"

"Of course," she said.

"Then you don't want to punish her for it?" he asked.

"No. It's not about me. Unfortunately, while punishment - revenge - is rather useless, there are still consequences for every action." She looked down, admiring his sculpted shoulders.

"What can I do to make you more comfortable?" he asked, eager to change the subject.

"Let me touch you," she said, a roguish smile overtaking her face.

"Gladly," he whispered, climbing over to her. She leaned back, stretching out, and he lay down next to her. She ran her hands along his jaw and neck, following the line of his arms. When she found his hipbone, his member flexed and became rigid; his kisses became more eager. When she bit his bottom lip he pressed into her mouth, hitting her forehead with his VISOR.

She giggled as he pulled back during a whirl of apologies. Then she said, "I don't mind if you want to take it off," smiling affectionately.

Geordi held his breath. "It's not a little strange looking?" he asked.

"Not at all," she whispered, touching the VISOR. "While the VISOR looks rather_ fashionable_" (he snorted) "I do like seeing your whole face."

He nodded. Then he pulled away and carefully took his VISOR off. "Here," she said, leaning over him. She took the device and sat it on the night table. Then she draped herself over him, tasting his mouth as he squeezed her backside.

They entwined like wrestling snakes, laying blissfully together for more than an hour. Lellee groaned; happy, but exhausted. She sighed and rolled off of Geordi onto her back.

"Are you all right?" he asked, following her, gazing off toward the window, unseeing.

"Sadly, I had to move. But now I am well. You look beautiful in starlight," she said.

"Even without my VISOR I know you do, too, Lellee," he replied. He smirked.

She giggled and ran her hand along the back of his neck, pulling him to her. He bent over her carefully, nuzzling her mouth. He cupped her breast, savoring their firmness. He pulled away from her face and kissed her gently between her breasts. With each kiss punctuated by a sigh, Geordi's mouth traveled down her body. He nibbled on her hips and squeezed her thighs.

Lellee whimpered when he parted her legs. His hot breath electrified her skin and she shuddered when he ran his tongue along her smooth folds.

Raking her fingers along the back of his head, she groaned throatily. He circled her clitoris slowly, playfully. He hummed and breathed, reveling. And over patient minutes, he escorted her through shimmering, shuddering waves. Her cries tremored and she arched backward as if possessed, shouting his name in climax.

She wilted, barely able to keep her eyes open. She groaned, "Geordi…" and her head lolled to the side.

He draped himself next to her and when she managed to look into his face, she found he'd put on his VISOR.

"I had to see this," he said.

"What?" she asked.

"This look on your face. And to know I put it there." He grinned.

Sull laughed and then sighed, her face going slack. Then she roused. "Where were we?" she asked, bleary eyed.

"We were right here," he said. Then he pulled the blankets free from under her and covered them both. He pulled off his VISOR again and bid the computer put out the lights. He slid his arm under Lellee's neck and pulled her into his embrace, her chest and right leg draped over him. He gently placed his hand on her hip and asked, "Comfortable?"

"Perfectly," she replied. Then the stars went out and she slept.


	18. Chapter 18

It was 1400 hours when Sull awoke again. She stretched like a cat and was pleased that her back was much less sore. Geordi had applied the salve to her contusions before he left for duty, the good man.

Suddenly the door chimed. "Come," Sull said gently.

The doors compressed open and Dell walked in, wearing a lime-green tunic and white pants. He walked up to her bed and held his hands behind his back.

Sull laughed and said, "You look very festive today!" She reached her hand for him and he helped her out of bed.

She went to the closet as he said, "Beverly showed me the holodeck today. We walked along a beautiful sunny beach."

"But aren't you going to Jamaica still?" she asked as she slipped on a pink frock with dagged sleeves and kelly-green embroidery along the v-neck.

"Not for a while yet," he said. Sull walked out of the closet, carrying her sandals, to find him beaming.

"What?" she said.

"Beverly invited me to visit home with her, on Luna!" He grinned.

Sull smiled, "Well that's exciting. How long will you be there?"

"About a week, I suspect. I don't want to over-impose myself." He put a hand to his chest and looked away, lost in visions.

Sull he smiled. "I would warn you to not get carried away. But that would make me a hypocrite, I suppose."

"Hypocrite?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

"I'm going to Helena's cabin in Northern California to rest and Geordi is spending a week with me," she replied, braiding her hair around her head.

"Really! I wasn't sure if you'd favor one," he exclaimed, crossing his arms. "Not the android or the Captain?"

Sull lifted an eyebrow. "I'd be careful about calling Data 'the android,' if I were you."

Dell blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes, I suppose that was insensitive. But, still, Geordi?"

"Yes… I don't know if what we have is to the degree of your involvement with Crusher, but I've probably also gotten carried away." She sat on the couch.

Dell joined her. "And Mr. Data? The Captain?"

Sull sighed. "I will probably see Data once I finally do my duty and arrive at Command, but Picard…" she looked away.

"You haven't seen him since..." Dell concluded.

"No, I haven't." She frowned, dejected. "I feel worried about this reunion. Aside from Data, you would think him the most likely to understand. But..."

"But…" Dell lifted his eyebrows.

"I got carried away." She grinned.

Dell laughed. "Well, I'm glad to see I'm not likely to get boring and predictable in my old age."

"You're never too old to be decadent, Dell." She patted his arm. Then she leaned back against the couch and sighed. "I had thought he might visit, but then that was rather silly of me. I think I am going to have to go see him."

"To reconcile?" he asked.

"Yes. I'd hate for this introduction to end on a sour note." She rubbed her neck.

Dell laughed. "A sour note? So, torture is what flavor?"

Sull laughed, too. Then she took a deep breath, appreciating the satisfying sort of soreness she'd settled in to. "Good point. This has really been an eventful voyage."

"It _is_ the Enterprise, Lellee," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yes," she said, looking around the room. "She's a scandalous old girl, isn't she?" Dell laughed.

Twenty minutes later, Dr. Crusher joined Dell in Sull's quarters. They discussed her plans in Copernicus City and agreed that if she had the time, Crusher would join Sull for dinner before she returned to the Enterprise. After a brief examination of Sull's back, Crusher said she was recovering well and that a few weeks by the shore would be just what she needed. Sull bid them goodbye for the evening and promised to see them in the morning before they transported down to Luna's surface.

Alone in her quarters again, Sull walked to the window and looked out at space. She had always liked to imagine shapes in the stars as they moved. Sull turned away and went to her bed. She slipped off her frock and applied the salve to her back. It was early, but she wanted to get it out of the way. She put her frock back on, checked her hair, and walked to the comm panel above the replicator.

Sull touched a few keys and said, "Computer: Where is Captain Picard?"

"Captain Picard is in his ready room."

Sull sighed and then chuckled, shaking her head. She took the combadge off of the table and put it on her frock. She tapped it. "Chancellor Sull to Captain Picard."

There was a noticeable pause, long enough for Sull to raise her eyebrows. Then his voice replied, "Picard here."

"I beg your pardon, Captain," she said. "If you are available, may I speak with you?"

There was another pause and then he said, "Shall I see you in your quarters presently?"

Sull blinked. "If that's convenient," she replied. "But I am well enough to come to you."

Picard bit his lip, thinking it over. He'd be safer in his ready room. Then he pressed his lips together, displeased with his impulse to protect himself from _Sull_. "No, Chancellor. I will come to you. Picard out." Then he stood up from his chair, tugged his uniform jacket down, and walked out of his ready room.

As Captain Picard rode the second turbolift, he pondered the situation. Counselor Troi had urged him to be reasonable. Though complicated feelings were only fair in this situation for a human, Sull was not human. Sull was also seven hundred years old.

_"But she can be wrong!"_ he thought. He shook his head and tried to clear his mind. She wanted to speak to him. It would be _unreasonable_ to draw conclusions without hearing what she had to say.

Minutes passed and he was at her door. She bid him enter at the chime and he walked in stiffly. He took in a deep breath at the sight of her lounging on the couch in a pink dress. Picard had not seen her since she'd charged into the Alldemen Captain. She looked quite well for someone who'd been so seriously injured only a few days before.

"Chancellor," he said.

"Captain," she replied, tilting her head to the side. Her eyes were wide and beseeching, her mouth a combination frown and rueful smile. "Please sit," she added, gesturing to her right.

The Captain sat down and turned to her. "You wished to speak to me?" he said. His face was very still.

"I want to apologize to you," she said frankly.

Picard blinked at this. His heart pounded for some reason. "Apologize?" he repeated.

"Yes. I should have told you what I suspected about the Space Station from the moment I suspected it." She folded her hands in her lap and lifted her eyebrows.

Picard was silent a moment. He looked away, thinking. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, looking back at her.

"I took you for granted," she replied.

"How so?" he asked, frowning.

"I assumed you'd know what to do, which you did." She smiled weakly. "I wasn't completely sure of my theory. So I only prepared what I could and… well… I guess I distracted myself, wanted to _live_," she touched a hand to her chest, "in case I died." She squeezed her lips together and exhaled heavily.

"You seduced me as some kind of… _last gasp_?" He smirked, disgruntled. "And Data and La Forge," he added.

"Yes and no," she said.

"No?" he repeated.

"I was drawn to all three of you before I even knew of the threat. I had…" she rolled her eyes, "abstract designs already." She smiled.

Picard blinked. Then he chuckled once. "I appreciate… the confidence you had in my crew and in me." He leaned closer to her. "I was… hurt, however, that you did not confide in me as…" he looked away, "as an intimate friend, I suppose."

"Yes, I should have," she said. "Professionally, as you are the Captain of this vessel, I failed to inform you of a situation that would be dangerous for your crew. Personally, as you are my friend, I failed to inform you of a situation that would be dangerous for me…"

Picard realized her eyes were shiny. He did not know how to reply. After a minute of silence, Sull took the combadge off of her dress. She offered it to him. He took it and looked at it as it sat in the palm of his hand.

"I accept your apology," he said. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_, Captain," she said. She reached for his shoulder, but then stopped herself, refolding her hands in her lap.

He watched her as she looked at those hands, her mouth pensive. He smiled softly. Then he sat the combadge on the coffee table and leaned back into the couch.

"What are your plans when you arrive on Earth?" she asked, not looking up.

"I plan to visit my brother." He smiled, thinking of his nephew. "Then I may do a little traveling around."

"A perpetual adventurer," Sull said, finally looking up.

"I suppose so. I have difficulty sitting still for very long." He smiled and shrugged.

"Perhaps we could see each other?" she asked.

"What of your other suitors?" Picard asked. Then he felt foolish. He shook his head "Forgive me."

"Geordi is spending a week with me," she said, not missing a beat. "I will probably see Data in San Francisco. Though I'm not sure I'd call them suitors. Nor more than I'd call you one." She grinned. "Don't apologize."

The Captain bit his bottom lip. "Perhaps we could see each other," he said finally.

Sull breathed in deeply and beamed. "I will be in Mendocino for a few weeks," she said. "Perhaps you might bring me that bottle I won to add variety to all of the California wines?"

Picard smiled a tight-lipped smile. He chuckled to think of what Robert would say if he knew where one of his select bottles of wine was going to go.

Finally, Picard nodded. "I'm sure I can manage something," he replied.

Sull grinned and sighed. "Thank you for coming, Captain," she said. Then she blinked, trying to repress a reaction to her own Freudian slip. She hoped he hadn't noticed.

But he had. He smirked. She laughed and put her face in her hands. Picard laughed. "I didn't know Partians could blush," he said.

Sull looked up, definitely red-faced. "Oh yes," she said, putting her hands on her cheeks. "I think it's rather reasonable to blush at one's own follies."

She crossed her legs. Picard looked at her and found that he was no longer angry with her. The Counselor had been right, _as always. _"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Quite well," she said. "Dr. Crusher just saw me and approved my progress."

"Very good," he said. Then after a minute he said, "Your plan was brilliant."

"Thank you."

"You're an amazing woman," he added.

"You're an amazing man, Captain," she replied.

"Please…" he said, running away with himself. "We're alone. Call me Jean-Luc." Then he picked up her right hand in the Partian style and lifted it to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand very gently, closing his eyes. With the ever-increasing distance between him and the trauma of her attack, he was refilled by the warm, driving desire he had felt for her since the night of the party. Having her to himself for one night had not relieved the concupiscence he felt, but rather made it bloom.

"Call me Lellee, Jean-Luc," she whispered.

He groaned at the sound of her pronouncing his name. He slid closer to her, holding her hand to his chest. Resting his weight on the back of the couch, he kissed her mouth. Their lips molded together and he slid his tongue along hers. She sighed and put her free hand on the back of his head.

It was as if a current or a magic held Picard and Sull together, breaking apart only for deep breaths. And then Sull said, "Computer: Nina Simone."

Picard chuckled. "I love this song," he breathed onto her neck.

"Give me sugar, then," she responded, running her fingers along his jawline. He leaned back from her for a moment, holding in his breath.

"I shan't be gentle with you," he whispered.

"Thank goodness," she laughed.

Then the Captain stood up from the sofa. She watched him move, craning her neck upward as in one fluid movement, he shed his uniform jacket. Then he pulled his undershirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.

Sull's gaze followed the line of his neck between his fine clavicles as it met the gray hair that seasoned his firm pectorals and a trail through the middle of his torso that ended teasingly at the top of his trousers.

Picard stepped backward, allowing her to feast on him, his face quite still. He reached out his hands to her, palms up. She reached out, taking them. With a certain gallant grace, he helped her to her feet. Leaving her arms aloft, he bent to the left. He swept his right hand under her knees and his left dexterously under her shoulder, he lifted her in his arms.

Sull giggled with surprise. Also pride; his princely gesture caused her no pain at all. She admired the warm, taught sinews of his shoulders as she ran her fingers over them. As he walked her to the bed, his eyes feasted on her face. His smile pulled from the left corner of his mouth, growing wider with each step and each little gasp she offered as he squeezed her flesh in his hands.

Picard lifted his right knee onto the mattress. He laid her on the duvet carefully and slid beside her. Sull touched her fingers to his chest and savored his firm skin and flesh. She ran her palm over his shoulder and her thumb along his jaw.

He brushed her hair from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. "It is strange," he said quietly.

"What?" she asked.

"I knew you were beautiful. And I knew you were an infamous seductress." He bit his lip.

"What?" she asked again.

"I had not considered that you would seduce me…" He took her hand and kissed the back of it.

"You seduced me first," she said squinting.

"How so?" he asked, smiling, kissing her hand again.

"You won the Starfleet marathon." She wiggled her eyebrows.

Picard smiled widely and shook his head. "And yet you look so young."

"I was going to say the same thing," she whispered. And she rolled over on top of him, sealing her mouth over his.

He squeezed her hips. Then, frustrated with her dress, yanked at the hem of the skirt and pulled it upward. She giggled and lifted herself so he could divest her of her frock. With it tossed on the floor, he traversed her spine with his fingers. She shivered. He slid his left hand into the back of her underwear and squeezed a cheek. Then he stiffened between them.

"Round 1?" she said, sliding her own hand into his trousers to grip his untamable snake.

"Of many," he whispered back. Then he pushed her off of him and sat up. He pulled off the trousers and climbed onto her nimbly. He pushed her head aside and bit her neck. She giggled and shivered again. "Being here with you now…" he whispered to her neck. "Touching your hot skin…" he lifted his head and looked into her eyes. "I'm afraid my initial madness won't last long…" He smirked.

She laughed. "That's a compliment."

"It is," he growled. "I've ached for you from the moment you called me in my ready room."

"Then let me relieve you," she purred, squeezing him.

He moaned heavily. "As I said…" he said in a gravelly tone, "I shan't be gentle." Then he sat up and tore her underwear away. He pulled her closer by her hips, tossed her legs open, and dove into her. She was fabulously wet and with the collision she cried out, arching. For a moment, he lapsed in his determination, pausing a moment to ensure he had not done her harm. But she sank back into the mattress and fluttered her eyes open. Then she squeezed him, bit her lip, and ran her hands through his chest hair.

Picard shook his head and smirked, closing his eyes. Then he pumped into her once… twice… thrice… and took off in a sprint of feverish thrusts. His grunts cleared into melodious moans and her cries met their tempo. For minutes they kept the break-neck speed until Picard grunted throatily again and strangled the name "Lellee…" His pumps slowed and her cries faded. He pressed his face to her neck, panting. He couldn't pull away just yet. So he stayed until he began to soften somewhat.

"Jean-Luc…" she whispered when he extracted himself. And at that sound he felt himself stiffen again for a moment.

He chuckled and said, "Yes…" He looked into her face. Sull opened her eyes and focused on his. They glimmered in the low light of the room. And though Nina Simone sang on, she could hear nothing but his labored breathing, punctuated by a sigh.

She closed her eyes when he kissed her, his soft tongue caressing hers. She felt his fingers in her hair. Then other fingers squeezed her backside. Then more fingers found her nipple and stroked it gently to firmness.

"Give me three minutes…" he whispered before running his tongue around the other nipple.

"I'll give you two," she replied.

He chuckled again and playfully bit her breast. "You can come that quickly?" he asked quietly.

"In your hands, I'd say yes…."


	19. Chapter 19

At 0700 hours Captain Picard finally broke away from Sull's embrace so he could return to his quarters before seeing to docking procedures. Sull took a deep breath and then skipped off to her closet. She had a few hours to pack, but rather inefficiently stuffed her dirty clothes into a sack and nearly caught a frock in the zipper of one of her garment bags.

She'd packed light, hoping to do some shopping on Earth. She hoped she wouldn't regret it during her convalescence. She would at the very least have to stop for a jacket, which she hardly wore anywhere but home. But nights along the coast of "norcal" were sometimes impressively chilly, even for a Partian.

Once she was done packing, Sull sat down for a light breakfast and a bit of reading. She received a flurry of short communiques asking about her arrival, and she felt strangely disinterested in being very social. There were three things she wanted to be: among the Redwoods, on the Presidio, and in Jamaica. She figured that after the first, she'd probably be more interested in the handful of friends that happened to be on Earth. But who knew who else would arrive over the next several weeks. Fortunately, only two or three were former lovers, which would tax her time less. Humans often required more romantic maintenance than Partians, and even Vulcans, who were a lot needier than most would believe. She laughed at herself over what a great problem she was to face.

She sighed and placed her dishes on the replicator pad. Then the door chimed. "Come," she answered. Data walked in.

"Data! Hello," she said, walking up to him, taking his hand, and kissing his cheek. "What brings you here?"

"I came to assist you with your luggage," he said.

"Oh," she replied. "That's very sweet, Data."

"I do not wish you to injure yourself in carrying significant weight," he said, his face still. Then he added, "Despite your proven ability to _pick me up_." His hopeful smile was met with laughter.

"Of course!" she said, grinning and blushing. "That was a good joke! Fortunately I packed rather light. But I accept your offer." She gestured for him to enter.

"I can take them now if you are ready to part with them. Then I must return to the Bridge."

"How close are we to Luna?" she asked.

"We will arrive in transporter range in fifteen minutes," he said. "Then we will begin docking procedure."

"Oh good," she said, "I can walk with you and say goodbye to Dell and Beverly." She pointed to her bags by her bed and he easily lifted them with one hand. He pointed his free elbow at her and she took his bicep. They walked out of her quarters and slowly down the corridor toward the turbolift.

Dell had just finished placing his and Crusher's bags on the transporter pad when Sull entered with Data. Data looked at the Transporter Chief and said, "Chief O'Brien, these are the Chancellor's things. I will leave them in your possession until she transports to Earth."

"Of course, sir," O'Brien replied.

Data turned to the Chancellor and said, "I will not be able to leave the Bridge when you depart. Will you send me your communique information once you arrive in Mendocino?"

"Yes, I will, Data. Thank you so much for this trip. It's been marvelous." She stretched on her toes and kissed his cheek, taking his hand in the Partian style. O'Brien glanced away and blushed, though was forced to glance away _again_ as he noticed Lem kiss the Doctor much less innocently.

When he looked back, Data walked toward the other pair. He extended his hand to Dell. "Senator," he said, "it was a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise, Mr. Data," Dell chirped, taking his hand and shaking it in the human fashion. "I hope to see you again."

"Indeed," Data replied. Then he looked at Dr. Crusher. "Doctor, please enjoy your leave. I will see you upon our return." He shook her hand, too, which left her rather surprised.

"Goodbye, Data. See you soon." She waved as he walked away.

Then it was just Sull facing Lem and Crusher. She sighed and opened her arms a little awkwardly. "Dell?" she said.

"Awww, mel-nen!" he said as he hugged her like a gentle bear.

"That's you, you rascal," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "I remember when you were small enough to fall asleep in my arms like a cub."

"Oh don't start on that," he laughed, pulling away.

Crusher nearly swooned to see he was actually blushing. Then the Chancellor took her hands. "Beverly, thank you for saving my life," she said.

Crusher laughed. "Of course, Lellee. I'm so glad to see how you've recovered. And… thank you…" she glanced at Dell. "I'll never see another kitten without thinking of him."

Dell laughed and crossed his arms. Sull reached for the Doctor and the two women embraced, Crusher minding the Chancellor's back. "Get enough rest," she said.

"I promise," Lellee whispered back. "Have fun with your sweetface, here," she said, pulling away. Crusher nodded and wondered why she felt tears coming to her eyes.

After Chief O'Brien transported their bags to Luna, Crusher and Dell took their place on the pad. Dell raised his hand and Lellee took it, wrapping her thumb around his. "See you soon, Dell."

"Goodbye!" he said. "Stay hydrated, granny." Sull laughed as the transporter shimmered and her friends disappeared from sight.

"Thank you, Chief," she said, nodding to O'Brien as she clasped her hands in front of her.

"Of course, Chancellor." He smiled and watched her leave. She wandered back to her quarters, quite at a loss. It would be only a half an hour before she would transport off of this ship and down to the surface. She felt strangely sad to leave the Enterprise.

She sighed. She missed being aboard a Starship. Then a bolt hit her. She laughed outright. "I wonder," she said aloud, "if they'd let me re-enlist as an Ensign!"

She sat at the couch and packed her P.A.D.D. in a handbag with the picture of Worf and Alexander and the empty bottle of bloodwine. Then she stood up and left for Engineering. When she arrived, most of the staff was running around making last minute adjustments before docking. In the frenzy she happened to spot Barclay.

He stopped short and nearly passed out at the sight of her. "Lellee!" he said, then felt faint at the sound of her name on his lips.

"Reg," she said. She reached out her hand for his and took it in the Partian style. Every crew member that passed gawked at the sight. Two of them nearly stumbled when she closed her distance from the Lieutenant and placed a kiss on his cheek. Barclay swallowed hard. "There," she whispered. "Now we're even." When she pulled away he looked puzzled. But she only smiled and walked off to the Chief Engineer's office.

Barclay watched her walk away. Then he felt a shove in his back. When he turned, two Ensigns were smiling roguishly at him, the male Andorian flashing a thumbs up while the human female said, "Hot stuff, Reg!" They walked away laughing and though burning with embarrassment, Barclay found himself smiling, too.

"Geordi?" she called.

La Forge bolted up out of his chair. "Lellee?" he answered, meeting her at the door.

"I just wanted to say a quick goodbye before I transport down. I'll see you tomorrow night still?" She took his hand.

"Of course. I'll be on your doorstep at 1800 hours sharp."

"Excellent, Commander," she said. He bent down and kissed her cheek.

"Safe travels!" he called as she left him for the turbolift.

Though completely unnecessary, this little jaunt to Engineering cheered her greatly. When she arrived back at her quarters to get her handbag, she found Captain Picard waiting for her.

"Jean-Luc!" she said happily. He smiled.

"A Captain's escort?" he said, offering his arm once she'd grabbed her bag.

"Can you be spared on the Bridge?" she asked roguishly.

"I think my officers can manage for fifteen minutes." He smirked.

"I'm glad you didn't bother with the dress uniform," she said, smiling.

"You may be a bad influence," he said. "It seemed rather unreasonable to treat you formally."

"That sounds like a good influence," she said as they took the turbolift to the transporter room. When they arrived, Chief O'Brien had already sent down the Chancellor's luggage. Captain Picard greeted him and escorted the Chancellor to the pad.

"Captain," she said. He swelled, noting with a certain pride that she'd assumed his title in the presence of a crewman. It was quite reasonable.

"Chancellor," he replied, taking her hand in the Partian way, "have a pleasant journey. I will see you in two weeks?"

"Two weeks." She nodded. "I shall expect a communique with your menu requests."

"You can also expect good wine," he replied very quietly, squeezing her hand.

She giggled. "Oh Captain... Thank you for everything."

"Thank you, Chancellor," he said, "for bringing chaos to the order."

She smiled and folded her hands in front of her. The Captain backed away and said, "Energize."

Sull lifted her hand as the transporter shimmered and she was lost to sight. For a moment Picard held his breath. Then the door compressed open and Troi and Riker walked in.

Picard squinted. "Was it all a dream, Counselor?" he asked.

Troi blinked. "Did we miss the Chancellor?" she said.

"Yes, she just beamed down."

"Oh well," Troi said. "I suppose we'll see her this evening before she leaves." Riker nodded and squeezed her shoulder, looking weary.

Picard turned away, flanked by the Commander and Counselor. It was like the reverse of their journey's beginning: walking _away _from _her_.

"How did we do with the Partians, Counselor?" Picard asked.

Troi smiled. "I think it was a visit for the history books, Captain."


End file.
